Workarounds
by gaylesam
Summary: A bit after the 40th anniversary, still wondering if they ever found a way to 'be together' - first posting, but hope you enjoy. Image selected here is what I found as an imaginary pix of Susan Caroline Gregg, aka Mother of Daniel.
1. Between A Wish, Love & a Dream

_The why – over 40 years ago the complex story of a young widow, who fell in love with a sea captain, caught my imagination and fancy. The fact that he was a ghost, who had passed nearly 100 years prior to their meeting, seemed inconsequential. It is oddly comforting that these two characters prompted my first long story, and all these years later, still compel me to imagine their world today. My thanks to the spirit of all who created these characters, the actors, now gone, who also gave them life, and hopefully everyone who loves them enough in the future to continue exploring what their love represents to us all._

**Chapter 1 - Workarounds - **_**Between a wish, love and a dream**_

Between the rushing of the on-coming storm and the crashing of the surf, it was surprising that anything else could be heard. The angry voices of a man and woman sailed out through the upstairs window.

"Not again", sighed Martha from her kitchen corner. "Again?" Candi asked her brother Jonathan, "What can they keep finding to fight about?"

A good question – but the wrong one.

Captain Gregg stood one hand on his telescope, eyes raised to the heavens. "You are the most exasperating, emotional female I have ever met! Why in creation must you make even the simplest discussion so frustrating?"

"Frustrating!" shouted Carolyn, "FRUSTRATING! You talk to ME about frustrating! You cannot even comprehend the word!"

Silence held for a moment, "Really?" he sighed, "I think I have the world best example standing in front of me." They stared straight into each other's eyes. Carolyn panting in anger, the Captain steely eyed and unmoving.

"You know NOTHING of frustration", Carolyn said through gritted teeth – her anger mounting even higher. "Frustration, true frustration is being completely, totally, passionately, hopelessly in love with someone you can never have, never touch . . ." she paused green eyes wide in shock at her sudden revelation. Looking down, she continued, "never hold, never kiss, never love the way you so desperately long to - never" she finished in a whisper mainly to herself, but aware that she had opened a gate that they both must go through, no matter the consequences.

Despite the wind pounding at the doors, and the rain starting to splatter on the windowpanes, sound dropped away as she looked up into blue eyes, bluer than she had ever seen in any other man. What was he thinking, she wondered? Not moving, she watched emotion after emotion cross his strong, yet gentle face.

He shook himself, as if to clear the thoughts away and stepped directly to her side. "M'dear, my dearest, please don't cry", a handkerchief appeared in his hand and she felt her unrecognized tears dried with immense tenderness. "Is that what has been driving you into such a fury of late?" he asked. He laughed softly to himself. "Heavens, you would think I might have understood, having had all the exact thoughts, feelings and wishes myself."

His eyes grew tender as she looked up, green eyes meeting his. "Surely", he paused and for the first time said directly, "my dearest Carolyn, my own love, I always thought you knew; I believe you did. Let me tell you now. Since you've arrived, each day I've longed to feel your hand in mine, to wrap you in my arms and to show you in every way I might, how much I love you."

"I must admit, it seemed better to leave all this unsaid. Despite that, I know I failed; I could not restrain myself entirely. I hoped; I believed you felt as I did – as I DO. I am not sure it is wise to say the words, yet I must admit the absolute joy I feel just hearing you, being brave and saying the words aloud. I have loved you Carolyn, and always shall."

Smiling with more than a touch of sadness in her eyes, Carolyn curled up at the foot of her bed. A break in the storm allowed a few rays of sunset to filter into the room, the rosy glow surrounded her and the Captain allowed himself a moment to appreciate the beauty of the woman who just claimed him for her own. "Daniel Gregg?" she smiled up at him, "tell me, what are you thinking just now? I have seen that look on your face a hundred times and never was able to ask. Tell me."

He settled near her on the bed, his hand moving to her face, and she felt her hair swept away from her eyes. "Tell you? M'dear I've said so much more, as have you, than we should. It's this I've always feared, the moment when if I had been human, I would bring you close, cover your eyes with soft kisses and know what it is to hold you at last. And to know none of that is possible".

Carolyn gasped, suddenly aware that the power of his words, the images he created had caused her to hold her breath in anticipation. "Feared?" she said softly, "Sounds to me like the beginning of perfection."

"It would be my wish, my darling, yet here we are again between a wish, love and a dream. I do not know of any way, any step to, as you say to 'make this work'."

They sat quietly, side by side. She had the impression that he was breathing with her. In perfect rhythm, aligned in even this simple thing. But she knew that was another part of the illusion. It had always been one of the most difficult things to understand. How could he appear SO very real, able to do so many things? Yet, still not exist in a way that would bring them together at all.

In the closeness and stillness, they became aware of the storm that grew in power outside, and the one that had quieted within the two of them. "It's quite a blow this evening, eh?" he said smiling at her. "Oh yes, in many ways I think." she responded. "I am sorry" she continued, "so many arguments, so much anger. Not at you, but _because_ of you." "And", he said gazing at her with rapt attention, "because of _YOU_ as well." "True, all true" she said. "There is no going back – so I suspect the real issue is what do we do now?"

"And, by the way, you are wrong." she added. "Wrong?" he laughed, "too many choices there madam, wrong to respond, wrong to speak, wrong to want, wrong to love? Which wrong did you have in mind?"

"Wrong that you aren't human," she answered. "You, my dear Captain, my own, are one of the most human people I have ever known – it's the alive part that's missing." She stopped, eyes wide, looking at him with lively curiosity. She smiled to herself, the thoughts coming quick and fast. Waiting he watched the ideas churn, content to see what her clever mind might be building, what fancy she was creating.

"We admit the human, we admit the feelings?" she questioned. "Indeed, if you insist, quite human, intense, overwhelming feelings M'dear" he responded. "Then all we need" she continued, "All we need?" the Captain interrupted. She rose to her knees – their faces close, she continued, "all we need is a workaround".

"Workaround? I don't believe I'm familiar with that – illuminate me." "Perhaps it's not exactly the right phrase, but let me explain. In a workaround, you recognize the way to achieve a goal, a result that bypasses the normal and expected way to get to that end." Interested and intrigued, he raised an eyebrow, "Go on."

"Indulge me – and no don't interrupt, I can imagine what you were going to say," she chided as he looked with innocent eyes and with what can only be described as a lascivious grin. "We know that you can interact with live people, with objects and you can touch the living world, but not in the same way living people do, is that right?"

"Indeed, there are rules and restrictions, but essentially that is correct."

"So . . . it's a matter of changing our expectations. Rather than missing what two living people might experience, we need to adjust, define our own workaround for this world, for the two of us in our own unique situation, yes?"

"I begin to see. So if I can do this," he paused, and raised a hand to move a strand of hair away from her face. "Then, we must be able to do more, if we are patient and take the time to. . ." he stopped and with a roguish grin went on "feel our way along?"

With a twinkle in her eye and a small nod, she continued, "but perhaps even more?"

"How so, my dearest?"

"A combination, taking the best of what we can fulfill here and continue with your talent of creating dreams. But in this case, special, detailed and private dreams for only the two of us?"

"M'dear, that is not enough for you. I have had my life, and you have years ahead in the real world. I cannot deprive you of all the world provides. This . . . this compromise is not enough." He swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and yet had left the choice to her. It seemed incredible that after so many years, so many nights filled with longing that the ending or perhaps the beginning would be decided now.

"Touch me."

"Carolyn, you know I cannot."

"Try."

"I know" she quietly continued, "it will not be the same as two living people would have, but this is the 'workaround' – just because it isn't the same, doesn't mean it cannot be perfect." She leaned close and closed her eyes.

With deep trepidation, yet intense desire he brought his hand close to her face. "Help me," he whispered, "tell me what, if anything you feel."

The wind pounded the walls, the glass rattled with the storm increasing in intensity. With infinite attention, he focused on Carolyn's face. Slowly, very slowly he brushed the back of his hand across her cheek, traced his fingertip around her lips, first the top and then the lower. Intently he watched as with each effort, she responded. Sighing, quietly, deeply, "I feel you." Opening her eyes, she gave him the answer they both sought, "I felt every touch!"

"Madam, is that your 'workaround'?"

"Oh, only the beginning, I hope!" she sighed and closed her eyes again. "It, it wasn't exactly like touching, but it was you, I could tell without a doubt. Daniel. . . it feels so strange to use your name. Does it work, could it have the same feeling for you?" "My darling, I have no understanding of what we may accomplish, but it seems there is but one way to find out?" "Close your eyes", she prompted. Watching carefully she came close to his lips, and gently, softly pressed her own to his. Willing it to happen, she opened her eyes and whispered, "anything?" "No beloved, nothing I can sense – I know you wish for it to be otherwise, but no"

"Well, then let the experiments continue", she grinned. He looked into her eyes, and matched the amusement there. "If you insist, M'dear."


	2. First Family Dinner

A soft knock at the door startled the two, "Mrs. Muir," called Martha, "we've been calling for a bit now – are you coming down to dinner? The door is locked," she continued jiggling the doorknob, "is everything all right?"

"Yes, Martha, absolutely fine," she said sparking eyes fixed on the Captain's face. "In fact, couldn't be better. I'll be down in a second."

They both looked at each other, as they heard Martha head down the stairs, "Go M'dear – the rest of your family needs you too, and you and I have time, as much time as we need."

She uncurled herself, and slid off the bed, "You're wonderful", she whispered. Pausing at the door, she looked back with a blissful smile, "Come with me?" He rose, one hand on the bedpost, with a questioning look at her. She walked to his side again, reached, as if to tug the sleeve of his jacket, and made an involuntary gasp of surprise as her fingers passed cleanly through. "Ah well, another attempt that was less than perfect. But surely this is no time to stop?"

It was not comfortable for Daniel Gregg to feel he was faltering two or more steps behind in her thinking, but there was no recourse but to say, "Pardon me?"

"I'm sorry," she continued, seeing far more in his face than he would have wanted her to perceive. "I think I'm feeling a bit giddy. After so long, after wanting so much for us to get - here, I'm probably not explaining myself the way I ought."

"If it's too much, please tell me, but in my mind, this is far more that just how we feel, it's a chance to begin again in the way I imagine we both would have preferred. A chance to make your Christmas dream a reality – all of us a family at last?"

"Madam, I hardly think it appropriate to share . . ." his voice dropped off as he gestured toward the bed, his head tilted and gazed wordlessly at her.

She laughed more merrily than he had ever heard her ever laugh before. Their eyes meet and he knew it was another sign that at long last they had found their way onto the right path, toward their 'workaround' and all that might mean.

She caught her breath and continued, "I am so very happy about. . ." and she waved her hand toward the spot on the bed they had just vacated, "but you are right, this is NOT the kind of sharing I was thinking to do with Martha and the kids tonight."

Stopping to wipe very different tears from her happy eyes, she began again. "I suspect, in time, they'll recognize things are different, and how soon they know why, I can't say. But just for tonight I'd love for us to be together, sitting around the table, talking, sharing and. . ." she looked down, and he saw a blush round her cheeks. "and, just now, I don't think I could bear being separated from you. So would you join us over dinner?" she looked up with a shy smile, waiting for his response.

Wanted. Family. Join us. Together. His mind reeled. So many things, all of his deepest longings, things he wanted and needed, offered up in a moment, by the woman he so dearly loved.

"I believe I'll be there first," he smiled and disappeared.

The two younger Muirs were waiting around the dinner table, Jonathan impatiently tapping his fork on the slide of his plate and Candi was watching the storm from the kitchen window when Martha returned, "Wow, it's really getting worse," Candi observed. "That reminds me, how did they sound, still arguing?" "Actually," the Captain said appearing at her side, "I think we," he paused searching for the right word and finding it as she scurried into the room, "I believe, your Mother and I have made our peace with one another," he looked at the blushing lady with a raised brow, waiting for her own comment. The blush was noticed, but gracefully ignored by everyone but Jonathan.

"Mom, you aren't getting any younger, you shouldn't rush like that, we didn't mind waiting!" "Jonathan," corrected Martha with a smile, "your Mother surely knows her limits. Let me get your plate Mrs. Muir." She quickly moved to the stove, as much to hide her knowing smile as the need to fetch the rest of the dinner. The happy, bubbling feeling between the pair was obvious to her, and without knowing the details, she was delighted to see them in such a good mood. Her curiosity could wait, for a bit in any event.

"Madam," the Captain said, "I was hoping I might join your table this evening. It's been a quiet day," he paused waiting to see if she would reveal the untruth. Smiling, she kept her eyes down, and he continued, "and I'd welcome hearing about the events of your day," he finished smiling at the family, _his family, _"that is if you don't object?'

"Gee," Candy popped up, bringing a chair to the table for him, between her place and her Mother's, "I always wondered why you didn't before." As he settled into place, he looked thoughtfully at her, "Did you? I didn't know. I suspect I should have asked earlier, shouldn't I?" He smiled down at her and she happily returned the look. All the men she had known, other than the Captain, had been either distant like her father, rarely present or interested in her, like her grandfathers or just silly like Claymore. Until this moment, it would never have occurred to her that someone like the Captain, who seemed so sure, so confident, would ever need, or want an invitation to be included. She grinned up at him, "Yep, you should have, we always want you around Captain!" It wasn't until years later that she understood the vital truth she learned that evening. It was universal. Everyone wants to be wanted and needed. And it took a ghost to teach her that for the first time.

Later in college, she saw the thought again in the writings of Jane Howard, a U.S. journalist and writer, "Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one." But Candi learned it during this, as she came to call it, 'our first family dinner.'

The family banter gave Carolyn a much appreciated moment to stop, settle and quiet her thinking. She had set herself onto a new course, one for her family and for their, or rather _her_ Captain. "I suppose," she thought, "there is no other way. There is never going to be an end to the nautical metaphors, there's no going back now", shaking her head, she saw the Captain watching her moment of self-discovery.

"So Captain Gregg," she finally asked, as she found her voice. "Whatever kept you from joining us before, it sounds like you have a unanimous invitation?" Jonathan's delighted "Aye, aye Captain", and Martha's broad smile added to Candi's, "told you!" and the matter was settled. The meal itself was nothing special, but the magic of the five people around the table made it memorable. Simple fish stew and blueberry cobbler afterwards became a favorite for the group.

Carolyn was fairly certain that Martha has some idea that something was afoot. At least the studied look she was giving the two of them indicated a serious question and answer session could be expected the next time they sat over a cup of coffee. As for the Captain, he tried to show no outward change, but equally suspected it was a futile attempt. Try as he might to actively listen and respond to the stories of playground heroics and 4th grade nature studies his mind kept wandering, and kept settling upon what the next experiment might uncover. Gauging from Carolyn's expression, when their eyes did meet, it was clear her mind was similarly occupied. "Well, I don't think even you Jonathan can get another spoonful out of that bowl," Martha indicated as he swept the spoon one more time around the empty cobbler dish.

"Come on you two, help me with the dishes. Would you like some coffee Mrs Muir?" Carolyn stood, attempting to put on her best 'back to work' face. "No, not tonight Martha, I have to take care of a few things I'm working on upstairs, but thanks."

A quick look over her shoulder, she left the family scene and briskly trotted up the stairs. At every footstep, the Captain felt compelled, pressed to follow, but had no such nimble or easy reason for departing. Martha, with great grace and insight turned, "Kids, have you finished your homework yet?" "No," grumbled Jonathan. "I have" smiled Candi. "OK Mr. – homework for you, and a bath for you missy!" Martha said with a commanding tone. She turned with a kind smile, "Captain, it was wonderful to have you here; I hope to see you tomorrow? But I know you also have things to attend to, no worries, the kitchen work and I are old friends and I'll be just fine."

"Indeed," tugging at his ear, as he always did when finding the right words proved difficult, he replied "tomorrow then," with a hint of wonder at either his great good fortune, or perhaps her greater insight. "Good night all." With a smile and friendly nod to them both, he disappeared.

"Good one Martha," Candi whispered as Jonathan trundled upstairs to his books. "What do you think happened?" "No idea," Martha said as she turned to the sink, "No doubt we'll find out in due time."


	3. Vanessa's Shawl

Carolyn stood by the telescope, watching the wind whip the trees wildly and stood feeling as flustered as a teen on her first date. Equally amused and dismayed by the fact, it was clear that she was not going to be otherwise between her desire for what was possible and her inability to predict what to expect. "Some how, after two years, I would have thought this might be easier," she muttered to herself.

The rain had finally stopped, and she opened one of the balcony doors, and enjoyed the shock of the brisk wind as it blew across the bay. Chilled she stepped back inside and looked for a wrap, and finally settled on the embroidered shawl, the one she still always thought of as Vanessa's, and stepped back outside. Wrapping the warmth about her, she walked out by the wheel, and with a deep sense of anticipation, stood and waited. In a moment, she was aware of him by her side. "Aren't you cold, M'dear?" "A bit," she said, looking up at him with shining eyes, "but I like the feel of the air when a storm passes, don't you?"

"Of course; but you do look cold – let me help." He lifted the shawl and re-draped it around her shoulders, wrapping it closer around her. "Wait," she whispered. His hands stilled, one on her shoulder the other near her waist. With a quiet amazement in her voice, she continued, "It's like you are holding me, I can feel the pressure of your hands, your arms. I remember that happened when you presented . . . or rather I accepted her shawl. Is it that you can touch objects, but not people?" She closed her eyes so she could focus on this new and wondrous feeling.

He leaned closer, she would have sworn she could feel his warm breath on her ear as he whispered, "My dear Carolyn," he paused as she pressed closer to him. He let out a small sigh and continued, "ah that I do think I feel in some way." She felt his arms tighten around her and they stood quietly for a moment in their first embrace. Eyes closed, she tried to capture all the sensations, knowing in her writer's mind that details were everything, and she wanted to, needed to share those with him as clearly as she could.

Turning inside the circle of his arms, she looked up into his eyes. "Tell me," she said softly, "what do you sense, what do you feel now?"

"Feel, Madam?" He closed his eyes for a moment, working to capture the sensations. "I feel the shawl that was truly always meant for you," and he looked softly as her as she realized he knew the wrap's history was still a sensitive topic for her. "But more, so much more," he continued, moving his fingers across her shoulders. "As you said before, not quite like touch, but astoundingly close. I suspect you may be correct that direct human touch is not possible, but it's clear that this," he paused as he slowly stroked her shawl covered arm. Raising the corner of the wrap, he continued gliding the silken fabric across her cheek, down her neck. He wavered before continuing to her throat and as she sighed, he stopped, and wrapped his arms around her and brought her closer. "This," he said the emotion clear in his voice, "is something I never thought to experience with you." She could feel his lips graze her hair. "Thank you for making it possible, my love."

"I must admit," he said thoughtfully, as a grin crossed his face, "for quite a long while, I focused upon how to get people to leave, and after 100 years, had a tremendous amount of time to get it right. Until today, I do not think I ever spent any thought, nor effort understanding how I could physically interact with anyone, in a way to make them want to stay."

"Then, it's quite a good beginning," Carolyn said, "don't you think?" "Indeed," he said quietly into her ear, "I look forward to the practice." She was aware of a soft kiss being planted there, and nestled closer as the wind quieted to a breeze.


	4. Answer to the Closet Question

At last, the evening chill settled around the cottage, and regretfully they stepped into the bedroom, and closed the balcony door. Reaching up, and pulling the shawl a bit higher up her neck, the Captain stood gazing at her, reluctant to retreat from this moment of unexpected closeness. "It's late," he said at last, "as little as I wish to, I should leave you to your rest." "Perhaps," she admitted, "but it has been a day beyond anything I could have ever imagined." She stopped and a fleeting, mischievous look crossed her face, "Well, that isn't entirely truthful, imagined yes, but I didn't believe possible." "Now that would be a fruitful topic to pursue," he smiled grazing his fingers on the side of her cheek, "tomorrow is Tuesday after all, perhaps our usual glass of Madeira at 4, and we can share a few of those imaginings – you're a clever writer, I look forward to hearing what you've created about the two of us."

"I look forward to also hearing your thoughts as well," she smiled with a bit of a devilish twinkle in her yes.

"Of course," he replied, with the same look. He turned and listened to the clock begin to sound in the hallway. "It's already tomorrow love, and regretfully it is time for me to depart." He reached out one hand and rested it for a moment on her shawl covered shoulder and disappeared.

Carolyn bent her head down, shaking it slowly from side to side. He was right, and while she wasn't ready to admit it to him, she wouldn't have had the strength to be the first to leave. With a deep breath, she headed to the closet with her nightgown to change for bed. Hand on the closet door; she paused with a puzzled look. "Captain?" she said, in almost a whisper. She wasn't surprised in the slightest when he instantly reappeared just behind her. "M'dear?" "A question Captain? Purely for my own insight." He raised an eyebrow, but slowly nodded. "Each evening I've changed in this blasted closet in the name of modesty, all that stumbling in the dark and banged up elbows. I've always wondered, was it necessary or was I merely fooling myself?"

With an outraged face, he turned, "Madam, what kind of man do you take me for?" "Obviously, a wonderful one; however I notice you did not answer the question." she continued to tease. Tugging his ear, he looked back with a sly smile, "No, I didn't did I?"

He stepped closer, brushed his hands down her arms, and wrapped the shawl over her hand. Bringing the covered hand to his lips, he kissed it, smiled up into her eyes. "Good _night _Carolyn. And to answer you sincerely, your dodge worked. Not that I didn't occasionally consider taking less honorable steps."

"I would have expected nothing less Captain. I may be a tad disappointed that my charms were resistible, but there may be a day when I no longer feel the need for. . . what did you call it, a 'dodge?" His eyes widening, still holding her hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze. "Carolyn Muir! I must admit, this side of you is not entirely unexpected, and is quite intriguing. But lest you feel secure know Madam, my resolve is open to serious temptation." He leaned and placed one final kiss, on her hand. Expecting him to depart, she was curious when he continued to stand, just looking at her, and she remembered she had seen that same expression once before.

She tried to recall the exact details, "I remember!" "Remember?"

"Yes," she went on, "that exact same expression you have on right now. It was when Dr. McNally was here and you terrorized the poor man half the night." "Ah, yes, _Ryan,"_ he sneered in memory. "Do you remember," she asked "what you said when I asked why you made him believe in you?" "Of course. He had denied me in my own house, and there was that other reason too. . ." he stopped, his voice trailing off in amusement, as he finally understood the relevance of her questions and this recollection in particular.

"You didn't like how I was smiling at him." "Go on," he prompted. "I remember it was the first time I knew you truly cared. You said that you remembered what happens to a man when a beautiful woman smiles at him, and when I said 'do you?' you gave me this exact look and blast it, refused to say anything more."

"Indeed. And despite the very welcome change in our relationship, I must remind you that blast is still not a ladies word." Laughing together, they stopped and found themselves staring hard at one another. He continued the recollection, looking suddenly away, "M'dear, It was hardly the time or place to detail precisely the longings, the immense attraction, the need to keep you for myself, was it?" "No," she admitted, "but your look said it all, and it's wonderful to see it again," despite her intentions, she suddenly was surprised to find herself yawning.

"Enough Mrs. Muir, it's clear you need a stern hand here, now off to bed madam. Good night!" With a quasi-obedient smile and nodded, she took her nightgown, and headed as usual to the closet as she replied over her shoulder, "Yes, sir! But be warned Captain, my own resolve is dwindling by the second." She opened the closet, turned around in the doorway, smiled happily and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

"As is mine, my dear," he whispered. "All in all, not a bad thing I think," and vanished.


	5. Well?

Despite her being certain, it would be impossible to close her eyes after the events of the day; Carolyn Muir had actually fallen asleep within minutes. As welcomed as the wonderful revelations and explorations had been the impact of those emotions and realizations had taken their toll. She was surprised to find dawn well underway when she awoke.

Her momentary panic stopped when she looked at the alarm clock and saw it was just after 6am, and at least a good half hour before the kids needed to be up, thank goodness. Taking a deep breath, she looked around, wondering, and she had to admit hoping for him to appear. She noticed a note and single rose by her bedside table carefully placed against her lamp.

Curling up on her bed, tucking her feet under her for warmth, wrapping the blankets around her, she opened the envelope with an expectant smile. Identical to his original invitations for Madeira and conversation, this content was quite different.

_My beloved,_

_I find I cannot end this day, nor begin the next, without a moment to reflect upon the wonder we have shared together. In a thousand different ways, I might attempt to communicate my joy, my passion, my amazement that we have arrived at this greater understanding, but any word I might put to paper fails to tell the tale._

_As uninspired as they appear, the only words I find remotely capable of communicating my feelings are in the simple and true statement of, "I love you."_

_Please accept this single rose as a symbol of what has finally blossomed between us. The ripening, the opening of our lives together, exemplified in the blooming of this flower._

_Of all the wonders we shared during the last day; it was your wish that we might at last have a chance to make my gifted Christmas dream a reality, the desire to have all of us become a family at last. Your wish touches me to my very soul. You astound me with your ability to see into my heart. Despite all my attempts to bluster and dissemble, you find my truest self and it makes me value and love you even more._

_I find it impossible to imagine a dream, a vision that could surpass or even equal this day. Still, I send you my wishes for a restful night with the full expectation that the dawn will bring an even brighter day. One complete in love, in fulfilled wishes and, as I promised you at the end of the day, a most excellent glass of Madeira._

_I leave you with the complete understanding that the glory of the upcoming dawn will now, as always, pale compared to the radiance that is Carolyn Muir._

_Yours with deepest love,_

_Daniel_

"And I thought I was the writer in the family," she whispered to herself. Gently running her finger down the page, she closed her eyes, leaned back against the pillows to let his words soak in. "Just beautiful," she commented aloud, "so this is what being courted feels like."

"Actually," she heard him reply softly, "I can't formally begin a courtship without first asking permission of your nearest male relative, how you think Jonathan would feel?" he smiled broadly as she opened her eyes in delight at his presence. "You, I assume, would be receptive to my advances?"

"Sit down," she said, patting the empty space beside her on the bed, "and we can explore the question together," she finished with a devilish grin. "Thank you for this," she gestured with the note still in her hand, "I've never received anything so lovely, so loving, thank you."

"Thank you M'dear for inspiring the message, it pales beside my true feelings, but I hope it captured some of what you mean to me. Today is a new beginning for both of us."

Looking at her, he watched a bit of a cloud cross her expression. Slowly she began, "Today. You know my Captain," she paused to give him a radiant smile, "is for us a new beginning, but it is still a regular day too, full of meals, school, driving and all the average ordinary parts of life. An article to finish, bills to pay, shopping to do. It's a shame, I would welcome being able to just focus on a certain handsome sea captain."

"Handsome, eh," he said grinning, "I always knew you had excellent taste Mrs. Muir. But, as you say, the day calls. I look forward to our time together at four this afternoon. Until then M'dear." He disappeared, and Carolyn carried his smile, and all it promised throughout the morning.

She congratulated herself that without too many mental distractions and compelling, soul stirring, heart-pounding memories she made it through breakfast, got the kids to school, even remembered most of the groceries Martha requested. It wasn't until she carried the last grocery box into the kitchen that she noticed Martha finishing folding clothes and looking at her with an unmistakable look of "now are you going to explain yourself?"

Knowing the minute things were quiet, the questioning would begin, Carolyn silently and with slow and careful efficiency started putting away the greens, milk and other perishables. Martha setting the laundry on the counter, in equal silence joined her in putting away the rest of the groceries. "Well Martha, that's everything," she said, closing the refrigerator door. "Not quite," Martha said in a flat tone, looking straight at Mrs. Muir. "You and the Captain have been railing away at each other for nearly two weeks now, since your parents left. Tension so deep you'd need a hacksaw to cut through it. Then all of a sudden, it goes quiet, you begin chortling and all five of us sit down for a friendly family dinner? Candi is already asking questions, and you can only imagine what I suspect." Taking out two cups, she poured fresh coffee, set one in from of herself and slid one over to her rapidly blushing employer. "Well?" she prompted.

Sitting at the table and taking a considered, long sip, Carolyn found herself uncertain how to begin. The kids adored the Captain, Martha was growing quite fond of him too, but that was a long way from understanding this change in their personal lives. Of course, they would have noticed the difference, she thought, and they'd want some kind of explanation. After all, for over two years the upheavals she had with the Captain had been fair game for family discussion. While Martha had entered into it only recently, she no doubt had made some connections once she became aware that the Captain had always been a daily part of their lives since arriving at Gull Cottage.

Sipping her coffee, Martha just raised an eyebrow and waited. The longer Mrs. Muir remained silent, the more Martha suspected her instincts were right; the two had finally broken down and done some serious talking at the very least. "Long overdue," Martha thought and she was startled to hear the Captain behind her. "Yes, Martha. I agree. Long, long overdue." He walked over behind Carolyn. Placing his hands possessively on her shoulders, he bent to place a single soft kiss on her hair. The look of approval from Martha set both their minds at rest. "But Captain," Martha stammered, "I only thought that, how did you hear me?" "Ah that," he paused tugging at his ear, "from time to time, with people who are close to me," he gave Martha one of his most winning smiles, "find that, sometimes without being aware, they open their thoughts to me."

Carolyn turned sharply looking up, "Then you could hear my thoughts too?" His roguish grin was evident as he watched her dash through her memories, trying to recall the most recent fantasies, images or wishes that had crossed her mind about the two of them. Not that she particularly minded now, but it would be good to know exactly how much she had revealed without knowing. Many of her mental wanderings, especially of late, had been quite graphic, and despite her best efforts, she found herself blushing again.

Taking pity he smiled, "No worries Madam. It is equally possible, when a loved one is taking a," he took a moment to find a tactful phrase for what he wanted to say, "shall we say, private journey, to turn off that ability as well."

He looked at her with loving eyes, and Carolyn returned the look with her own wide smile, "Nicely phrased Captain, and for the moment, I won't question your honor."

Pulling out a chair, the Captain sat between the two women. "Martha, you appear to have questions or concerns. Please know in advance all that has occurred is that this dear," he paused and looked softly at Carolyn, "very dear woman and I have finally concluded that despite our very different states of existence, that it is no longer possible to deny the feelings between us. I assume," he said, looking directly at Martha with arched eyebrow, "that should suffice?" Martha sat thoughtfully as he turned to look at Carolyn, gauging her comfort with how the discussion was proceeding. Watching the two of them for a moment, Martha looked wistful. "Of course that will suffice, for now at least. Look at the two of you. What I wouldn't have given to have someone look at me like that when I was younger. Heavens, it would melt an Eskimo!"

"Martha!" Carolyn said in mock surprise. "Eskimo, hardly?" the Captain interrupted, "there is only one person I hope to melt under my gaze." Martha watching slowly shaking her head, as the two shared a long look she was sure would finally melt the all of the North Pole if it went on much longer. Turning back to her, the Captain continued, "Martha, should you have any further concerns, I am at your disposal." He stood and looked at Carolyn, "M'dear, I will see you at four?" "Yes, of course, at four." With a gentle caress across her check, he disappeared.

Carolyn closed her eyes for a moment, gave a deep appreciative sigh, and when she looked up, noticed Martha continuing to look across the table at her. "Mrs Muir, the last two years make a great deal more sense," Martha began, "I'm not sure given what I just heard and saw, that you could have made any other choice. But how do you think you will really make this work?"

"If we had that answer Martha, I'd tell you," Carolyn answered honestly. "As it is, we have a lot to figure out, and I promise, what ever workaround we do figure out, you'll be the first to know." Standing, she went to the stove, added fresh coffee to her cup and turned to Martha, "I have to admit I'd love the answer too." Checking the wall clock, Carolyn sighed again, "and we won't even get a chance to talk until later today. The bank balance is going to be unhappy if I don't get the my article done and in the mail today."

Martha nodded and sat watched her head up the stairs. Standing to get back to her work, she smiled to herself, "Yes indeed, we're going to be up to our knees in melted Eskimos pretty soon."


	6. The Man of the House Approves

Only through focusing, pacing and knowing that if she didn't finish the current article she would be hard pressed to make the next month's lease payment did Carolyn manage to get through the day in a vaguely productive manner. She felt fortunate that the research was already complete, as she doubted today if she could put her best work into helping visitors find the most interesting and scenic locations to experience Maine Blueberries. The overview pointed readers to self-pick sites, local farms and of course a wide array of shops and restaurants where they could feast on the best pies across the state. Not her most fascinating article, but they paid well, and she was grateful for the assignment. As she typed away, she was also glad she had started early on the final version, as compelling and vivid daydreams kept interrupting her work.

It was hard to focus on describing acres of blueberries when her mind kept going back to last night. Imagination or not, she could actually feel the breeze blowing around the two of them standing on the balcony. Recalling the sensation of his lips grazing her ear, her throat, she shivered and rubbed the goose bumps from her arm. "Carolyn Williams Muir," she ordered herself, "knock this off, get back to work!" Warning received, she pulled herself in front of the typewriter and settled into finishing the last few pages able to focus with the knowledge that Martha was picking up the kids today. She was still doing a final set of edits when she heard the car return and the kids dashing about the house. Glad they had long ago understood that she wasn't to be disturbed when on a deadline, she pushed ahead without interruption.

Down in the kitchen, with milk and cookies finished Candi went upstairs to work on her English report. Like her mother, she enjoyed pulling research together and putting it into her own unique story. Jonathan however, was never one to put work first or at least not without a struggle. Despite Candi's insistence that boys didn't pay attention to important things, he actually had noticed the Captain and his mother over dinner last night. He had wanted to talk to his mom, to try to understand what made his sister and Martha so silly and giggly as they talked about the events last night, but the door was closed, the typewriter clacking away, so he headed upstairs to find the only other person who might be able to clear the mystery for him.

"Captain, Captain Gregg," he called as he looked into the wheelhouse. Some people might be happy to call it an attic, but he loved the ship names the Captain had given the various rooms in the house. "Captain, are you here?" "Here lad," the Captain said, materializing on the sofa by the window, "I thought you were set to be at your homework now?"

Sighing, Jonathan nodded, "Yes, but a guy needs a little time between school and homework, don't you think Captain?" Smiling gently, "Perhaps not every day, but once in a while I doubt it will do any harm. You look as if you have a question M'boy, can I be of help with anything?"

"Maybe," he said with his usual honesty, "it was really great last night that you and Mom stopped arguing, but the way Candi and Martha were talking after you both left, it seemed like there was something else going on that I don't know about. I don't think it was just about all of us being together at dinner, seemed like it was something else. Do you know what was going on?"

The Captain looked kindly at the boy; it wasn't by accident that he first chosen to introduce himself to the lad the moment the family had arrived at Gull Cottage. It surprised him, that day when Jonathan had without a single fear, gone upstairs, and had recognized his presence, and turned to face him, even before the Captain himself had decided to materialize. When the Captain appeared that first time, Jonathan introduced himself calmly, accepted and understood that they weren't necessarily welcomed and went down to report it all to his disbelieving family without a single moment of doubt. That combination of youthful courage, fearlessness and unquestioning acceptance had given Jonathan a special place in the Captain's heart, and it gave him a great deal of happiness to think they would be able to strengthen that bond.

Jonathan, by this time was used to waiting patiently for the Captain to respond to his various questions. He knew that spending time with young boys was as new to the Captain, as it was for him to spend time with a ghost over 100 years old; yet it didn't stop either of them from forming a solid friendship. "Well lad, for once I have to admit the ladies might be right, and I think it fair you know even more than they do for once, how does that sound?" "Great!" he responded, delighted to know something his often too-superior sister didn't for once.

"Well," the Captain said slowly, keeping his gentle smile, "you and I have been friends from the day you arrived, true?" "Sure," Jonathan said brightly seeing the happiness in the Captain's face, "so it's good news?" "Indeed, or at least I believe, and your mother believes it to be so," he paused again, wishing that he and Carolyn might have discussed the matter earlier, but the boy's curiosity was appropriate and he had to admit, he liked idea of the two of them, boy and man, sharing an important moment together. Collecting his words, he watched Jonathan perched expectantly, "Wait, I know! This is like Scruffy and Moby Dick, or ah… Sheila – you were arguing because you really like each other, right?" "Right lad," the Captain broke in, hoping to avoid any discussion of mating seasons or other more earthy references. "In fact, you can do me a great service." "Anything Captain," he cut in, "what do you need?"

"Well son," he felt his voice caught by emotion at the word. Daniel Gregg recognized that this small word meant more to him than he had imagined. Going on with a slight gruffness in his voice, "Son, I am faced with a dilemma. In my day, when a man and woman felt in a special way about each other, the way I believe your mother and I feel for one another, it was expected, rather required that the man should ask permission of her closest male relative for the privilege to court the lady." "Court?" Jonathan asked confused, "like going to trial?" "No lad, in this case it's setting aside time for two people to become closer, something more than friends, but something less than married." "Oh, good I wouldn't want mom to be going to jail again," he said remembering the troubles after the powerline guy was mad at his mother. "Sure, I like it when you and Mom get along," Jonathan nodded happily. "So I have your permission then sir?" the Captain said formally. "Yup, so I can tell Candi you had to ask ME to court Mom! She'll just hate that!" he jumped up joyously. "A moment," the Captain warned, "we want to do this in the correct manner. For now, you need to keep this information to yourself, until I share it with your Mother later this afternoon. Can you do that for me?"

"Sure, just between us guys, right?" "Exactly, just between us guys Jonathan." "OK then, but let me know when I can tell Candi and Martha." "You'll be the first to know lad, I promise. In fact you should get working on your homework; your mother should be up here in a few minutes."

"Yes sir," said Jonathan, not overjoyed about homework but glad that for once he knew something first. With that happy thought on his mind, he slid out the door.


	7. A Special Glass of Madeira

Back down in the master cabin, Carolyn was delighted to see it was 10 minutes before four when she pulled the last page out of typewriter, clipped it together, slipped it into an envelope to mail to New England Travels, and was able to finally stretch her arms over her head, and step away from the desk at last. So far there had been no domestic crisis, or at least so far, and she enjoyed the extra time to get ready for what, she was sure, would be a most 'interesting' afternoon.

Until yesterday, Carolyn has always assumed their time together each Tuesday was, as the Captain called it, an exercise in "relaxed graciousness", but given their new reality, she began to wonder it really had been his way of opening new and romantic portals into their lives. Certainly, she knew those quiet hours, talking, laughing and sharing their worlds had provided some of her happiest moments during the last two years. "Well, until yesterday at least," Carolyn thought with an expectant glint in her eye. She browsed her closet, looking for the right thing to wear, "No, I wore that one last time," she thought, passing over the red knit dress, "no the blue one was the week before," she continued musing. She settled on a soft chiffon summer dress with sheer sleeves, and in a moment of inspiration selected a long silk scarf her Mother had brought her a few years ago after a vacation in Italy.

A beautiful thing, so thin it was almost transparent, except at the ends where delicate flowers in gold, copper and silver threads added a touch of true elegance. Twirling in front of the mirror, she flung the scarf around her shoulders, gave one last adjustment to her hair, and set off up the stairs.

Instead of her usual speedy dash up to the cabin, she found herself slowing her steps. "For goodness sake," she thought, "nothing to be nervous about, anxious about, yet. . ." Standing on the landing, she realized that for months she knew what to expect when entering the room. His appreciative glances, lively conversation, the calming rhythm of sipping the excellent wine and the wonderful moments when the world seemed to include only the two of them.

Since her revelation yesterday, and his matching outpouring of love, desire and longing, everything had, without any planning, any design, changed forever. "Ah, that's it," she finally realized, "I can't write the outline, can't set the stage, and cannot know what happens next. It is great, exciting, yet as a writer, no wonder it unsettles me – I'm supposed to be able to arrange stories exactly as I want, and now, the best story of all, I have to let it go forward with no plan, no edits, no rewrites."

Placing her hand briefly on the doorknob, she paused, closed her eyes and taking a steadying breath walked inside.

"At last," he muttered, when he finally heard her footsteps moving slowly up the stairs. He had always found the waiting on their Tuesday meetings difficult. While constantly aware of his intense feelings, dash it, his passion for the woman, the formal invitation for Madeira and conversation, had provided him a safe and mannered way to be close to her. His growing frustration each time she had been late was, in his mind, both a weakness and an undeniable mark that his feelings for her continued to deepen. More than one time he had wondered how long he could contain himself, avoid saying the words.

Not that he had entirely succeeded, he had to admit. Thinking back, the days were filled with loving words, even if the word itself had not been actually mentioned. Perhaps arriving at this point was inevitable, his Christmas dream ending with the two of them in each other's arms, a loving kiss and a wedding already planned, and as for the events following her parent's recent visit. . .

He would have seen the restaurant flattened before ever letting her risk even an imaginary marriage to Claymore. Thankfully, it had only required a simpler and less destructive solution. It had been one small step from that to imagine what his own wedding, what _their_ wedding might have been, and then trying to hear how the words might have sounded. Shaking his head in remembering, "You besotted fool!" "Who's a besotted fool?" she said stepping into the room, "If it's you, then fool, absolutely not, but I really couldn't object to being an object of your obsession could I?"

He paused, taken again by not just her beauty, but also something more. Her gentle charm, her intellect, humor and something he no longer intended to fight, her ability to raise his passion with just a slight smile and a twinkle of her eye. "You are a vision of loveliness," he said in a low voice, "the day has felt, has been I think, unusually long – I've missed you." She looked down for a quick moment, knowing she couldn't stop herself from blushing again, "Heavens – I'm a grown woman, I can't keep behaving like a school girl," she thought. "Women, blush, I'm told," he said moving closer to her, "especially when they are in love."

"Then you know me well, Daniel Gregg," she stepped closer, sure that her feelings, her desire must be as perceptible as her thoughts to him now. Reaching out, he ran a finger across the scarf, "What a thing of beauty," he murmured, looking as much at her, as the wisp of fabric around her shoulders. "May I?" he asked, and pulled the thin silk into his hands. "Not so much a wrap, as a veil, I think?" He pulled the fabric end to end, and placed it on top of her head, the iridescent silk floating along the sides of her face. "If the experiments of yesterday are any indication," he continued, "then this may provide quite an enhancement."

Stepping back, he pulled his hand away, and looked down. To her surprise, he looked surprisingly discomforted. "I apologize," he said, turning to fill a glass of wine for her. Placing it in her hand, he continued, "I invite you here for a moment of relaxation and the minute you appear, I seem unable to recall anything other than my own desires and wishes, again, my apologies, M'dear."

"Please sit," he said gesturing to the sofa. "You've been working all this day, time to enjoy a moment of quiet. It sounded as if your work went well? At least the constant typing lead me to believe so?'

It intrigued her that this world traveled, sophisticated man, albeit not quite of her own world, would be so unsettled by his passions, by, what she had to assume were his desires for her. His actions, his way of looking at her said it was true, yet it seemed that despite everything he did not seem to know how closely they mirrored her own wishes. In fact, she was somewhat confused about his reticence. Sitting, glass in hand, she looked at him, head tilted clearly and trying to make sense of something, she reached out and they touched glasses, "Good health?" she toasted.

"Touché madam, touché," he responded, "I am somewhat at a loss, and uncertain of the correct course, as regards you and our life together." "Truly?", she said with undisguised amazement. "Really," he answered. "Somehow in all of this wonderment, I find myself lost between our two worlds. In my own century, for a proper woman, there was a very clear and defined series of steps to get to the intimacy that we both, if I am correct, we both desire."

Reaching over to him, she paused, recalling that without some item, some fabric between them, that touch wouldn't be possible. She took the scarf from around her neck, draped it over her arm and hand. Reaching out again, she stroked his face with quiet understanding, "You shouldn't mistake your instincts here, M'dear," she paused waiting to see if he had caught the phrase. His eyes responded, as she had hoped, and he relaxed and looked carefully at her. "Perhaps, as anxious as I may be, as desirous as I certainly am," he said without pause, "we might be better served to talk, to share what we think and feel, rather than solely act? I find myself quite at war between the sensations we have allowed, and the ideas of what the right way, the correct way to be allowed the access, the actions – does that make any sense to you?"

She had to reach back to an early moment in their relationship to find him so much at a loss – it had to have been when the parapsychologist had blackmailed his way into Gull Cottage. They had their first truly serious quarrel that evening. The Captain had been the one to stop, and state, "this will not do!" and slowly, thoughtfully stepped back to bring them to a safe and comfortable place. She had not been able to see his face then, but his voice had been filled with pain, anguish and regret. It was harder now, his voice was equally troubled, but this time, she had to watch his face. Never, never once had she imagined this leap would have been so complicated.

Only now did she begin to perceive that it was FAR more than two people, immensely attracted to one another, finally connecting with each other. No, this was far more complex, they would need to gap time, customs, manners and, even more, she began to understand with an insightful moment of inspiration. They'd also have to factor in his own loneliness during the past 100 years and combine that with the reality that other than the phantom Vanessa, the only woman he had ever apparently loved in all those years, was her.

She stopped to also recognize with her own sense of dismay, that at some point, they'd also need to address her own history. She'd need to share her own disillusionments during her marriage to Richard Muir, but that could wait. She needed to address his needs, his comfort first.

"Daniel," she began, "I imagine, there likely are no books, no protocols and probably no precedent to our life today. The nearest I could imagine would be some book or movie on time travel – how could a man of the 1800's and a woman in 1968 meet, share their lives and their love otherwise? You and I are writing our own adventures now, my love. So yes, you are right. Let's take a bit and see what we each want, what feels best and move ahead accordingly. Does that make any practical sense?"

"Carolyn, if I ever wondered, ever was confused about what makes you so perfect in my eyes, well except for the occasional bickering that is," he joked, "you have made it clear to me this evening."

"I did promise, you might tire of my saying it," she said again, "but I love you. Not for what I imagine you to be, but what you are," she paused, reading much in his eyes. "Not today, but soon I need to share a bit about my own life. The world of men of my own time, men who live and breath here are not all what you think them. I have compromised before, did what was sensible, practical and I assure you Daniel, I do not EVER intend to compromise again. What we have, what I have found with you is not just what I want, but a promise of everything I have ever hoped for in this life. Whatever the 'workarounds', it's you I want, not anyone else."


	8. Shōryō

"If you insist Madam," he said with a smile, "then kindly sit here and we might explore that idea." Looking up with a smile of appreciation and a bit more, he patted the cushioned seat by the window. She joined him, and sat staring into his eyes, trying to sense what the right next steps, next words should be. "Carolyn," he said softly, quietly placing his hands over the scarf that covered her own hands, "I have not the slightest idea of what I have ever done in my life, or hereafter to be worthy of such emotion, such trust, but I hope to always make you feel certain in the rightness of your choice. For myself, while I have had perhaps more experience than you may have wished," he said with a look of considerable understanding about her feelings regarding his extensive romantic past. "I can only say never, at any time, was there ever any woman who would compare to you. It is only you who truly have possessed me completely, and made me feel unfailingly happy and content to love and be loved in return."

Eyes shining, she looked at him, feeling immensely at peace. Looking around she took a woolen blanket and draped it over his shoulder. "After all that, I think it wouldn't be too forward to suggest you hold me, just for a bit?" Without another word, he draped the scarf around her and pulled her near. Silently they sat, her head nestled against his shoulder, his arms wrapping her tightly. "My darling," he said quietly in her ear, "I believe neither of us expected to ever have this closeness, yet I am certain we both wish for more?" He tilted her head up their faces close. "Am I right, still not close enough?" Pausing, she closed her eyes for a moment, and looking again she answered, "Never close enough, I think. But if this is all that is possible, it will be enough."

Pulling her near again, she felt him gently lower the wispy veil over her eyes and kiss them softly. Sighing, she stopped thinking, wishing, planning and gave herself up to the sensation.

"My darling," he finally said, "you talked of dreams, but I think there may be another choice, another pathway." "Another workaround?" she asked. "I believe so," he answered "I hope so. It was during my Christmas gift to all of you. Do you recall the end of the dream?" Smiling she looked up, "Recall? Of course, finally at long last being in your arms, feeling your kisses, of course I remember." "But before that quite wonderful moment, do you recollect saying 'it seems so unreal?' and I told you it was only a moment in a dream?" "Yes, why?" "Because that phrase was not in the dream I created. In fact, it was quite a surprise at the time. Somehow, you had become present inside the dream, and added your own understanding, your own voice. As I've had time to explore a bit, it's clear that you were able to separate reality from the dream. This makes me feel, gives me hope that there may be as you call it, another 'workaround'."

"Something better than this?" she asked, shamelessly taking advantage of his words to snuggle even closer, raising her face tantalizingly close to his with a suggestive twinkle in her eyes. She felt him sigh, and opening her eyes, found him watching her closely. "Madam, the sirens of ancient time had nothing compared to your own wiles." His eyes twinkling in return, he took a corner of the blanket, and softly poked her nose, gently pushing her upright. "Now stay there you scamp," he grinned, "I have something serious to discuss, and I need you to keep your distance, at least for a bit," he smiled more broadly.

"I will endeavor to behave sir," she promised, "but it is not entirely my own fault, you do present quite a temptation!" "Glad to hear it," he replied, "I begin to be grateful we had not both been alive in my time, I suspect I might never have left shore, but I digress." She settled back with pleasure, watching him adopt what she called the Captain Gregg 'storytelling' face – she curled up waiting for the adventure he was ready to share.

"Do you recall, a few months ago I mentioned my adventures in the far Pacific and a crew mate Katsu Kaishu?" She nodded with interest, "In the evenings, when the wind died to a whisper, and we were standing night watch, we spent quite a while talking about his beliefs, his culture and in particular, the principle of shōryō." "Shōryō?" she repeated. "Yes, as Kaishu explained, their culture felt it was common, especially during sleep, for more attuned individuals to be able to step out or away from their body and into what he called the etheric plane. He told us he was adept at the practice, and considered it quite commonplace. Of course, having never heard of this before, many of the men, in fact I myself joined them in disbelieving this was possible. Yet, time after time, he proved his ability."

"How could you prove it," Carolyn asked, wide eyed and sensing the importance to their own lives, "after all you weren't a ghost then, so who could confirm the details?" "As I said," he continued, "the Japan seas could often be unendingly becalmed, and there was time, often too much time while slowly making our way to port. It became something like a game or sport for us. Before Kaishu would go to sleep, we would agree that some event or item to review would be placed in the officer's mess at a particular hour while he slept. We'd mount a guard beside his bunk and only one person who kept watch in the mess knew what the test might include at any night. Sometimes it would just be a particular book open to a marked page, other times an item from the bottom of a sea locker, or random tool would be set on the table or a single phrase spoken or written on a slip of paper. In the morning, despite the complexities, he would unfailingly laugh, and tell us the name of the guard he had walked past and the identity of the seaman in the mess. He would not only describe what was left on display or voiced, and in many times he would quote the exact words we exchanged in the passageway or on deck."

Sipping the Madeira from her glass, Carolyn looked up, "so you are hoping or thinking based upon the Christmas dream, that I might step out to meet you in, what did you call it?" "It is, Kaishu called it, the etheric plane," he responded. Tilting her head, she looked both interested and puzzled, "other than your friend, have you ever known anyone else who could cross this. . . this bridge between worlds?"

"No one else who proved it as he did, yet over the years, I've read tales that indicate it is not uncommon. In fact, from time to time I have seen people, who I first assumed were walking late at night, or in their sleep, but they were actually something else." "Something else?" she prompted? "So I believe, it was as if they were in that in-between state that Kaishu has so adeptly described. While not quite conscious, each time they were able to see me, perceive me but seeming more like the dreamwalkers of Indian legend."

"There's something about this I remember," Carolyn said with a puzzled look on her face. "A book about a convict who could do the same thing, by Jack London I think. I just assumed it was interesting fantasy storytelling, but perhaps it's more?" "Perhaps," he said, "would you be willing to explore this with me?" "With you? Anything you ask," she answered with a satisfied smile. "So we are collaborators again! Where do we begin?"

Standing and walking over to the sea chest, the Captain opened the heavy lid, took something small out of the top compartment and after closing it again, paused to look at her with a thoughtful expression. "To begin," he said crossing to her side, "I think before I make any suggestions, that I should share with you, as is correct, that I have spoken to your nearest male relative." "My father?" Carolyn said with a tone of disbelief. "Not very likely," he said with a soft laugh, "Actually I had occasion to speak to a much younger nearest male relative this very afternoon. A young man who was quite curious about a visible shift in the relationship between his mother and someone she seems to feel a deep attachment toward," he explained sitting next to her. Taking her scarf covered hand in his own, he continued, "In my time, it was proper to make your intentions known before entering into a formal courtship. I'm delighted to share that Jonathan has given his approval, and now what remains is to determine if you welcome my intentions?"

She sat quite stunned, happy, but stunned nonetheless. Two days ago, they had been railing away at each other at the smallest provocation. Her desperate emotional outburst yesterday had brought them closer than she ever imagined. His eager willingness to share his feelings, his desires, his love made it clear only propriety or maybe pride, or perhaps both, had been keeping them apart. Torn between the desire to throw herself into his arms (too complicated with the layers needed), laugh loudly (good impulse but likely to be misunderstood) or swoon (those Victorian ladies always had such a sense of the dramatic), she sat, mind reeling. A quiet, "Ahem?" caught her attention, and she looked up in his rather confused and unsettled face.

"M'dear, I had thought, or rather perhaps presumed too much. . ." "No, oh heavens no," she interrupted, "Yes, yes oh for goodness sake, YES!" In one flying swoop she swirled the scarf around herself (thank goodness it was on the very large side) and wrapped herself next to him. She felt his arms pull her tight and was felt the sensation of kisses on her hair, and was delighted to hear him laugh, softly at first, and then as he tilted her face up, they joined together, laughing loudly and happily. "So Jonathan approved did he?" she asked eyes shining. "If I recall, Madam, his exact words were 'Yup'."

Standing in front of her, he pulled his face into a very loving, yet solemn expression. "Now, Madam, if you would sit and try to contain yourself, there is one last formality."

Eying him curiously, she settled back into her customary seat on the red velvet couch, waiting for him to proceed. "I need to perhaps explain the custom of my time. I am aware that a gentleman offers a ring in these days as an offer of marriage, an engagement ring I believe. Yet in my own time, a token of understanding was customary to offer at the start of a formal courtship, long before an engagement was in place. And since I am content that courtship is indeed possible, I wanted to mark that with this gift, this token between us, if you would accept it?'

In his hand was a delicate and detailed gold pin, or broach. Curling waves encircled small pearls rolling onto an invisible shore. "I purchased this in Singapore long ago in a hopeful moment. I envisioned it as a gift for the one who would be more powerful an attraction than the sea itself. It remained in a covered part of the sea chest until now. I never found the right one no matter how I waited, or how I searched until this very day." Reaching out to pin it on her dress, he asked softly, "May I?" Finding herself incapable of words, looking up with tear filled eyes she nodded.

She felt the scarf twirl again about her neck and shoulders, and he fastened the pin, just above her heart. "I offer this to you as a token of my love and my promise to always be worthy of your heart." Touching it gently, she looked up at him with deep affection. Wishing she had a similar gesture to complete the moment, she paused, recognizing she did indeed have a way to offer her own intentions as well. "Daniel," she said softly and looked steadily into his eyes, "I want to offer you this," she easily slid off her wedding ring, and placed it on the table in front of him. "There is no need, no desire to have this ring on my hand any longer. The reasons are many, and on another day I'll share the whole history, but know now, and always you hold my spirit, my heart, my truest self in your hands." Again, tucking her hands under the scarf, she took his two hands in her own. "Courtship accepted, sir.


	9. Courtship

As the sunset grew rosy in the west and the first star or two became visible on the horizon, the two enjoyed the stillness. With blanket and scarf carefully positioned, the chance to snuggle, to cuddle together offered them a new quiet sense of closeness. With few words spoken, they reveled in a new sense of togetherness. No drama, no upheaval, just an occasional soft murmur between two people finally finding a balance in their unique and private world.

The scent of Martha's dinner wafted upstairs, but not before the audible grumbling of Carolyn's stomach announced the obvious. "Madam!" he said sternly, pulling back to see her face clearly, and pointing a finger of warning her way, "you had no lunch, again. Must I be your nursemaid too?" Tilting her head to one side, she crossed her eyes in amused frustration. "Amazing, what am I do to with you? How can one man bounce from lover, sweetheart, friend and nanny in the course of a few minutes? I'll never be able to keep up!"

"You'll learn my dear, you'll learn," he promised with a soft kiss just over her ear. "But you need food, and by the smell I suspect dinner is waiting, and so I imagine is Jonathan." "Jonathan?" she asked. "Well," he said slowly, "if you recall I mentioned he and I had an important conversation today." "Actually, I recall that quite favorably," she answered with a grin, "but what has that to do with dinner?" "Not so much dinner itself, but it's the time he expects to be able to share our conversation with the other ladies of Gull Cottage."

"Oh," she said knowingly, and with a twinkle, "the men got together, figured out how to handle the 'women' and are now are going to share their masculine wisdom since dinner is served?" "Ah, Madam, so it would be if the world were a just and practical place," he grinned widely at her.

Taking a playful slap at his shoulder, she stood straightening her dress and replacing the scarf around her neck. "Well, no matter how free we women become, I suspect dealing with men and their presumptions will never go away. Shall we join our family for dinner, my Captain?"

"Delighted, Mrs. Muir. Excuse me if I go ahead, I need a word or two with Jonathan before you arrive. That is," he said with a roguish smile, "if this meets with your womanly approval?" Laughing, she waved him away, "Go, go and finish your manly scheming."

With a deep bow, he disappeared, and even before she reached the top landing, she could hear Jonathan's delighted, "She did? Way to go Captain!"

Wondering, as she heading down the staircase how far back she had set back the cause of women's rights. She promised herself to give Candi the other side of the story before bedtime. After all she was getting close to 10, and it wasn't too early to let her know dealing with men required some understanding, some forethought, "and outright deviousness sometimes too," she murmured as she entered the kitchen.

"Madam," the Captain stood as she entered, "we are pleased to see you. Jonathan," he nudged the boy, "as we discussed, kindly hold your Mother's chair for her." With the air of one having a serious responsibility, Jonathan pulled her chair back, and as she settled down, with a great deal of awkward effort, helped slide her chair toward the table. Smiling up at him, Carolyn reached out and gave him a kiss on the cheek, "Thank you Jonathan." "Well done, lad," the Captain responded, "well done." Glowing happily with the praise, Jonathan returned to his seat, but looking meaningfully at the Captain, he stood waiting. With a glance at Carolyn, he then nodded to the boy. "I believe," the Captain said with a tone of command, "you wanted to share some news with the ladies?"

Straightening his shoulders, Jonathan looked happily at his mother, Martha and then with a superior grin at Candi. "The Captain and I had a long con, con. . ." "Conversation, lad." "Right, conversation today and since I am Mom's closest male relative, he had to ask me if it was OK for him to begin courting Mom, and I said it was great!"

"Whoa, Mom, really?" Candi broke into the speech, "that is so great! Is that the same as getting married? How does that work?"

With a knowing look on his face, Jonathan continued, "courtship is about them getting to know each other, it's not marriage or even getting engaged, it's different, right Captain?" "Indeed lad," the Captain confirmed. Turning to Candi, he looked at her with a gentle face, "In my own time, it was considered proper to only announce your special interest in a particular woman," he paused to give Carolyn a stirring look of appreciation, "after you had approval from her family, or in my time the male head of a family. It may not be the tradition today, but I hope you approve as well?"

"Well, sure, you are always like part of the family, I just kinda hoped you had figured out to be like us?" "My dear Candi," he said kindly, "you cannot imagine how much I would wish that were possible. I suspect, together we will have to find a," looking over at Carolyn for the word, "Workaround," she said continuing his thought, "it means some things are possible, others are not, and we'll have to find ways to all be together as a family, and we don't have all the answers. We'll have to find our way together."

"Gotcha," Candi replied, "just like we do now anyway, but without the yelling and more time doing things together, right?" "Exactly right Candi," the Captain answered with a smile.

"Now that you have all this figured out," Martha said, "my arms are getting tired holding this casserole, does ANYONE want dinner?"

With dinner finished, and Jonathan off to the bathtub, Carolyn peeked into the children's bedroom. "Candi," she asked, "homework all done?" "Yep, think I'm ready for that spelling test tomorrow. Is Jonathan almost done with his bath? I hate when I have to go 2nd, the tub is always so messy." "Sorry about that," Carolyn said in sympathy, "but I'll help you straighten it out when he's done, all right?" "Thanks mom," she said with a pause, "so how come it took you and the Captain so long to figure out that you like each other?"

Carolyn shook her head, in all her years as a mother, it never failed to surprise her how direct her children could be when talking to her. Decades could have passed with her own mother before anything so personal, with so much emotion would have ever been discussed and perhaps not even then. "Guess I must have done something right," she murmured. "Sure you did something right," Candi spoke up, "Captain Gregg is wonderful, he really likes us, and boy, the way he looks at you mom, wow!" She popped up to straighten her homework, and get out her pajamas.

Watching her daughter bustle around, she smiled down at the floor for a moment. When Candi settled back on the bed beside her, Carolyn looked up, "You are getting older aren't you?" she said, stroking her daughter's blonde hair. "Yes, he does seem to like me," Carolyn admitted, "doesn't he? And I have to admit, I never imagined feeling this way myself." "I bet, I don't remember Dad ever looking at you like that," Candi recalled. "I didn't think you were old enough to remember things like that," Carolyn said thoughtfully. "Well, gee, it wasn't like he was ever around very much, we see the Captain every day, and he's always happy to help with things, tell us a story or just do stuff with us."

"He is, isn't he," Carolyn said with the same quiet, thoughtful tone, "so you think it's OK, about everything we talked about at dinner?" "Sure, great! Mom, I'm not a kid anymore, really, truly the only thing, since you can't get married, is that we get to be happier, right? It would be so cool if you could, but you can't unless he's all the way human like us of course."

"Of course," Carolyn couldn't quite stop a sigh at the thought, "we can't find a workaround for, I'm afraid."

"Oh Mom, that's not a big deal, we get Gull Cottage, we get all of us together, that's really great. AND I hear Jonathan getting out of the tub, come on, help me get in before the water gets cold!" Watching Candi dash out the door, Carolyn smiled and picked up Candi's pajamas and bathrobe. Appearing at her side, the Captain's look told her he had heard at least some of their conversation, "So, she approves as well?" "So it seems," she answered with a smile. "Any one else's permission we need?" "Just our own, I believe," he said tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, giving her an intense look. "MOM! Candi shouted from the bathroom, "You said you'd help me clean up Jonathan's mess."

Dashing into the room, Jonathan, hair dripping stopped and looked up at the two. "You know what I like best about you guys?" "No, what lad?" the Captain said, sharing a smile with Carolyn before she headed off to the bathroom with her own private smile to him. "It's nifty being able to finally kinda get a real dad," he said jumping under his covers. "Don't you think?" eyes shining with happiness at the Captain. Looking at the boy with real tenderness, and finding himself unable to avoid a few tears himself, he looked down a moment before responding, "I cannot think of anything better, unless it is to get your hair dry, my boy." He disappeared and in a moment returned with a towel. "Sit up," he grumbled, to hide his emotion, and draped the towel over Jonathan's wet hair. "Here, let me help a bit, son." As he scrunched the towel over Jonathan's hair, the boy laughed and squirmed under the drying. "Hey, Captain, that's neat! I didn't know you could do that!" "I'm an old hand at towel work, you can't expect to tuck into your bed dripping wet," the Captain replied, with a final wipe of the towel.

"No," Jonathan said in surprise, "I thought you couldn't touch people, is it different now?" "Not different, but your clever Mother has figured out a few, as she calls it, 'workarounds', so no doubt we'll find some other changes too I suspect," the Captain said, with his eyes locked on the boy.

"But enough on today, time to sleep my lad." "Aw Captain, not even a story?" Taking a moment, the Captain heard the soft murmur of his Carolyn and Candi talking in the bathroom. "Well, it appears the ladies are still occupied, perhaps a short tale, scoot over Jonathan."

Jonathan took his pillow and moved to one side, and the Captain settled beside him, stretching his legs out on the bed. Thinking, he looked at the boy, "Here, slide your pillow next to me, and I'll tell you a story when I was a lad." Adjusting carefully, the boys head on the pillow, also leaned against his side. "So this is what it's like," the Captain thought, "to truly be part of a family." "Well my boy," he said aloud, "shortly after the turn of the last century, when I was just about your age now, my mates and I set off on an adventure. . ."

Standing in the hallway, having left Candi to her bath, Carolyn stood and listened. Never once did she imagine that her desperate need to share her personal feelings would result in all these warm and wonderful changes for the whole family. She leaned against the children's doorway, listening to the tale of adventure from his past, watching the growing closeness between the two men in her life, feeling quite content and happy despite the challenges that lay ahead.


	10. Toast to a Perfect Evening

It was one of the surprises of moving to Maine, to Schooner Bay, to Gull Cottage itself that the weather never managed to be truly predictable. Of course, the Captain's temper had its own ability to call up a squall, but temperstorms aside, it seemed to be true random chance if they had sun, rain, wind, hail or some combination of them all throughout the year.

It was rare that in late spring that the weather offered the balmy, soft, dare she call it, romantic evening they had tonight. Leaning over the rail on the balcony, she enjoyed the gentle breeze and the clear view to where the ocean blurred and disappeared into the night sky. "A toast to a perfect evening," the Captain said behind her. He placed a small crystal glass of Madeira in her hand. As they toasted, she allowed herself a moment to take a long, appreciative look at the man before her. Taking a small sip, she knew of course she found great pleasure in his charm, his mind, his warmth, and yet, especially now, she was stirred, physically by the waves of tension, sexual yes, but something more that particularly wove around the two of them tonight. Words could never describe it, she decided. It was electric, liquid, and if his eyes could be trusted, he sensed it himself.

"So," she began, finding her voice catching in her throat, "here we are again." Gazing past her face, he seemed to focus on a spot just below her right ear. "Are we?" he said absentmindedly, as he leaned closer, she felt the whisper, the illusion of his lips caressing the hollow behind her ear. Encouraged by her soft gasp, he nuzzled the spot further, and as her head tilted, progressed down to the base of her neck. Pausing, after another intent minute, he moved back to look at her. Her eyes closed, he was extremely content to see the effort had transported her. She looked up at him with pleasure and a smile of satisfaction. "You have to give me a moment, at least until I remember to breathe again," she whispered. "Madam, the last thing I want is for you to regain your senses. I quite enjoy having you off balance for once."

"How, how did you manage that?" she asked with wonder. "If I didn't know better, I wouldn't have been able to tell you weren't human and alive beside me." Not able to stop her joy from showing, "I don't have words. . . !" she whispered softly, and knew from his grin that it hadn't been a casual moment, but one carefully studied and thought through for her pleasure.

"Well, not just your own, my Carolyn," he answered her thought, "I assure you, there were distinct benefits to both parties." Gently framing her face with his hands, she felt a sense of warmth, of gentle touch without being able to say quite how it occurred. Looking into his eyes, as he gazed intently into her own, she thought of the overwritten phrase, the 'world suddenly stopped', her inner editor groaned, but let it stay, since no other words seemed to be a better fit.

"Did you know, or just hope it would work," she stopped to take a deep breath, "quite that well?" "As I mentioned," he said leaning close to her other ear, and beginning to softly work on that same sensitive spot he explained, as he made his way slowly down the same path, "I have a powerful incentive to find ways to make positive impressions especially now. Over the afternoon, as we sat quietly, I was able to sense ways to reach you, to make a direct connection with you. Of course, this is merely a first attempt," he whispered with a satisfied smile, "In future, I trust," he said lingering just above her collarbone, and she felt her knees weaken, "you will guide me?"

Her attempt at laughter turned out to be more a ragged mix of laugh and moan, "I'm glad your proper and considered boundaries, have their weak spots," she said thankfully. "M'dear," he continued, slowly turning her around, and she felt the impression of his lips softly caressing the back of her neck, and the sensation of his arms surrounding her. "Perhaps I was not entirely clear. My desire," she waited expectantly as he let the word linger in the air for a moment, "to formally make my intentions known, was of course for propriety, but I also must admit precisely for this moment as well. I want to be able to without hesitation, or compromise express, show how very dear, how very loved you are, and how much I long to be with you in all things, all ways that may be possible."

"No question then," she said, reaching for the scarf around her shoulder. "We are indeed of one mind." She turned to face him, foreheads touching; they stood in the moonlight, listening to the waves breaking on the beach below. "It seems to me," she recalled, "you had something you wanted to work on with me this evening?" "Madam, I hardly think I'd call this work," he joked. She smiled widely up at him, "but indeed," he continued, "if you feel equal to the attempt, I would be glad of the chance to see if it may be possible to find the 'bridge' I described to you this afternoon."

"Captain, after today, I begin to believe anything is possible," she said with satisfaction. "Where would we begin?"

Stepping away from her to the wheel, he took a thoughtful spin, as if trying to set a new course. Looking at her carefully, he tried to determine where to begin this story, taking what sounded like a deep breath, he began, "It is clearer in my mind, than the telling will sound, M'dear. If you recall shortly after you began this adventure," he paused as she cleared her throat loudly at the phrase, "well Madam, you were the one who spoke first, but I will allow it was hardly one sided." "Thank you Captain, most gallant, but please, go on." "If I can avoid further interruptions" he paused. "Upon beginning these explorations, I confirmed that there are rules and restrictions for those in my state of being. Part of that is allowing those alive not to be too aware of what awaits them on the other side of life."

"The plane, or the bridge, takes you between your world and the one beyond. I equally inhabit the two realms, moving between the two, until the day I am able to move to the next stage in the afterworld." "You can't move, or is it you don't choose to go?" Carolyn asked wondering. "Honestly Madam, I do not have an answer there myself. I first assumed the injustice of my death being called a suicide kept me here until the truth could be brought to light. Yet once you corrected that misconception," he paused as her expression make it clear she disagreed. "Corrected!" she interrupted, "let's be fair and say you had shanghaied my article to 'correct' the story."

Her eyes twinkled, despite the cranky tone of her complaint, "Ah, yes, well," he paused, "let's compromise and say it was a collaborative effort to bring the truth to light, shall we?" he said in his most winning voice. Smiling, she nodded, "Compromise it is. But obviously that wasn't the only thing, since you are still here." "Obviously," he said stepping closer to her side. "At one time, I also believed my intention to leave Gull Cottage as a home for retired seaman was left as an unfulfilled promise or obligation. Yet we have also set that to rest with the fundraiser that built a new home earlier this year." "So," Carolyn said, looking deeply into his eyes, "then there is something else?" "Something, or more likely some_**one**_ who holds me here, or perhaps even more likely we hold each other," he reached out, pausing to place the scarf over her hand again, and holding it between his two hands, lifted it and placed a long, soft kiss on her palm. Looking intently, matching her gaze, he continued, "I can only conjecture M'dear, but I believe that may be the case. Yet I have to admit, I have no complaints, if it required the 100 years here to finally bring us together, it was but a small price."

Carolyn, touched deeply by the depth of emotion he continued to show, was unaware that she matched his revelation with her own look of total adoration. He reached out and softly caressed her cheek. "So, assuming we are meant to be together here, then it should be easier to cross the bridge, to be in that plane?" she asked. "It seems sensible, feels right to me at least," he said with more assurance than he felt. "To begin, as I did with the dream, it would help if I placed a few silent suggestions in place as you settle down to sleep this evening. It is best I don't explain too much, but rather make it as simple a series of steps as possible, does this meet with your approval?"

"Of course, what else should I do to prepare?" "You might ask me inside, M'dear," he smiled, "as I don't think you would sleep comfortably out here."

* * *

Stepping out of the closet, in her favorite yellow nightgown, she watched him perched in the chair by the fireplace, watching her with almost scandalous appreciation. "It isn't as if you haven't seen me exit this closet a hundred times," she reminded. "True, but never before as an invited guest," he rose and walked to the bed, "and that does make a difference." Smiling contentedly, she slid her feet under the sheets, and as he pulled the covers over her, she giggled softly at the sensation of having the quilt tucked around her. "Some how, in all the ways I have imagined this moment, the idea of going to bed with you was always quite different," she quipped with a smile. "Truly?" he asked, "this was always quite what I envisioned myself." "Liar" she challenged. "Indeed," he admitted. "Now settle yourself down, and I'll return once you are asleep to set the process in motion."

"Is that necessary?" "Of course, we discussed. . ." "Actually no," she interrupted, "I mean is it essential you leave?" Standing beside the bed, watching her curiously, he thought of all the possible intentions she might have, all the suggestion implied. Her relatively innocent face belied anything deeply suggestive, so with no further insight, he merely raised one eyebrow and waited for her to continue the question. "If you are concerned Captain, perhaps I'm being more than obvious, but I've been married, have two lovely children and am far over the age of consent. I can't imagine I have any maidenly virtues left to protect."

He continued to watch her with an unreadable face, stammering a bit under the steady look, she said, "Truly, if you could stay, just until I fall asleep, that would be wonderful, but if . . ." He raised a single eyebrow, and gave her a look of deep amusement and affection. Without a word, he crossed to the other side of the bed, and she was bemused to see him sit and appear to remove his shoes. Lying down on top of the covers, he turned on one side. "Mine you stay under the covers," he commanded. "Bundling was in fact acceptable in courtship, even in my time." "Bundling?" "Yes bundling. Few homes had extra rooms or beds, so a courting couple often shared the bed but with a solid layer of covers over the lady to keep the two separated. Some homes even used a bundling board as a greater barrier between the two, but I think we need not extend that far tonight, if you agree?"

She rolled over, looking at him in amazement. "You're kidding, bundling? Bundling board? Is that real?" "It is most certainly real, now turn and face the other direction," he looked softly at her. "Lying face to face presents far too many temptations and very little likelihood of sleep, now over you go!" Turning reluctantly, she was aware of him quite close behind her. "Is it acceptable for the gentleman to at least bring one arm over to this side?" With a wave, he turned out the light, and she was delighted to feel the pressure of his arm over the covers around her waist. "Thank you Daniel," she said quietly, "Good night." "And sweet dreams to you my beloved," he answered.

She was unaware that as she settled down, he had already begun the silent series of messages, almost like inaudible hypnosis to move her to sleep, and to prepare her for an unparalleled journey,


	11. Crossing the Bridge

Guided by his suggestions, and warmed under his embrace, whether an illusion or not, she fell quickly and quite happily asleep. "Now, this is a difficult course to set", he thought. He had purposely made the stepping onto his plane seem a relatively simple transition, but had left quite a few facts out of the telling. His knowledge of people crossing onto the etheric plane was far more than the retelling of Kaishu's experiences. In fact, he had often seen people making the crossing usually at night. While most walked in a dreamlike state, there had been a few who recalled the time there with clarity.

It surprised him how often people appearing in the plane were willing to talk, often quite anxious to share their concerns about some emotional or other important upheaval in their lives, as if that drew them to something or somewhere more than in their own day to day lives. It was equally unexpected not long ago, when Candi, in the depth of her 'puppy love' with the British schoolboy Mark Helmore, had appeared. She and the Captain had a long chat about the nature of boys and attraction that night, and while she awoke feeling much better about herself, she only recalled it as a vague dream. In fact, Carolyn and Jonathan at different times had also reached this side in the midst of active dreaming, but as far as he could tell, neither was aware of the event. Even Claymore after the William's wedding renewal ceremony had wandered about, clearly questioning his bachelorhood and seeking answers about his unmarried state. It bemused the Captain that the desires of his ersatz nephew were equally divided between the lack of romance in his life and the lack of what he considered sufficient funds in the bank. There had also been those disturbing comments when Claymore went on and on about how devilishly attractive the actor Rock Hudson had been in a recent movie, and the Captain frankly preferred to not think about that at all.

He felt certain that sharing any of this would have raised many doubts for Carolyn, and would not have made it easier for her to make the attempt this night. At worst, she would be unable to complete the journey, or do so, but only recall a dream. His hope was for something far more specific, and until the last two days, he would have been deeply reluctant even to consider it possible. Yet, she had been as equally desirous of this step, and with her wants known, as well as his own, it was an experiment worth pursuing. He had frankly neglected to share with her that at least for the first few times, the effort to separate from the physical would be a strain, but knew he would be there to help her adjust. If he were the kind of person to cross his fingers, he would have, but since he dealt with things in a much more direct manner, he merely appeared facing her sleeping in . . . he struggled now with the right description, was it hers, his, or even perhaps their bedroom? Shaking those thoughts away, he began.

"Carolyn," he implored. Standing beside her, he reached once again into her mind with a silent call, "Carolyn, please my love, come join me. We have an adventure ahead of us. Come M'dear, time to get up." As if that last gentle request finally reached her, she opened her eyes and saw him standing in front of her, holding out his hand. Without hesitation, she placed her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet. Surprised at how wobbly she felt, she didn't even register when he pulled her into his arms. "There my girl, you did wonderfully, better than I could have hoped. Take a moment to get your 'sea legs' under you, there is no hurry." Holding her up, he walked her to the fireplace. "Take all the time you need, I'm here to lean upon." "Lean upon?" she asked in confusion.

"You've achieved quite an accomplishment my dearest, it does place a strain on you the first time or two, but like any new physical feat, it becomes easier with repetition," he smiled at her. Settled into the armchair at one side of the fireplace, she was surprised that things were not quite in focus. "M'dear, just close your eyes for a moment, it'll be easier soon. Give yourself time to acclimate," he offered softly. Blinking she soon recognized the familiar surroundings, but gave a gasp as she became aware of her own figure still lying comfortably in bed.

"Daniel!" she jumped up alarmed, still unsteady, he pulled her into his arms again. "There my dear, no need to be concerned, I promise." She looked questioningly into his eyes, and seeing nothing but calm there, she sat back into the chair for a moment. Staring at her form, still in the bed, she looked up at him with a silent question. "No, dearest, nothing is wrong, I do assure you. But we should move into another part of the house, for if your body should awake, then you would be pulled back immediately." Nodding, she took his hand again and didn't register surprise when he walked the two of them through the door and silently down the staircase. Entering the parlor, he set her in the chair near the fireplace. Watching her carefully, he took up the poker, stirred up the embers and set another log on the fire.

"Carolyn, what do you recall, what do you think brought you here this evening?" he asked. Holding her hand to her temple, she thought for a moment, grateful that things seemed to be clearing. "You, rather we talked of meeting in, in oh what was the word?" He left her to her own devices, letting her settle into this reality on her own terms. "Etheric," she remembered, "Oh my god, Daniel, it worked?" Standing and reaching for him, she grasped his arm, his shoulder and stopped with a wide smile. "I can touch you, feel you," a look of amazement crossed her happy face. With hesitation, she moved closer, stroking his beard, his face with wonderment. Her arms moved around his neck, she rested her face on his shoulder and reached up. A deep sigh left her as her hands buried them in his hair, wrapping curls around her fingers. "Oh Daniel, my dear Captain, it would be impossible to tell you how long I've wished, wanted, oh dash it, NEEDED to feel my hands running through those beautiful waves in your hair. It has almost been a physical ache all this time, this alone makes the journey worth it."

As she continued her passionate exploration, his eyes closed, unable to accept her open, vulnerable need of him. At each step, he continued to be astounded at the true treasure he was discovering in her. He had thought he had known her well, but only now did he truly understand how much more he might expect from the world that allowed them to be together. Thanking whatever god, spirit or magic made it possible; he pulled her to him, and silently placed a series of soft kisses across her eyes, her hair, and gently taking her hand, held it open on one side of his face. Finally touching, finally feeling together, they looked deeply across time, across reality, across lives, accepting they had at last arrived together in a common shared world for the two of them.

"Dearest," he said catching his breath, "one of the challenges of being active here is that we can awake the people who sleep, and it is in our interest to leave them to their slumber. I think we should explore beyond Gull Cottage, but first, we should find you something warmer I think, no matter how enticing your nightgown is here in the firelight."

Stepping back a pace or two, she was aware that she still was wearing the yellow nightgown, nearly transparent now, in the light of the fire. Smiling up with an unrepentant eye she asked, "Truly, you wish me in something more sensible, I'm surprised!" Laughing, he answered, "Dearest, if you want to know what I truly wish, that in its entirety would wake every living thing in the vicinity." She opened her eyes wide in mock shock, "Captain, what a thing to say!" "What a thing to make me think, rather M'dear," he said softly bringing her into his arms. Feeling his hands roving over her shoulders, arms and across her back, she leaned closer into his embrace. It was nothing less than perfection, she though, to feel his face touching hers, and to be able to breath in his scent, elusive mix of ocean, smoke from a pipe and what could only be described as something deeply masculine, something also filled with, she was happy to realize, desire.

"Time to step outside, I think my Carolyn," he suggested. "But first, let me educate you in how to adapt your wardrobe for travel." Moving her to arms length, he said, "Close your eyes, prepare for a walk along the ocean. Feel your clothes shifting and adapting around you, can you sense the change?" Thankful she had always had a strong imagination; she stopped and envisioned her clothes changing. Opening her eyes, she saw herself in her favorite dark blue sweater and skirt, felt her most comfortable boots on her feet.

Looking in admiration, the Captain paused, "Clearly you are a prodigy M'dear, most excellent, shall we go?" Looking outside, she asked, "Will I be warm enough? I honestly cannot tell if it's day or night right now."

Holding her by the hand, he walked her to the hallway, and this time she hesitated briefly before going straight through the front door. Standing on the porch, she looked behind her in wonder, "It's as if it wasn't even there!" "Yes, that is one of the mysteries, or rather changes on this level, without the physical matter of your body to transport, the very nature of reality is quite different. As I've read over the years about the greater scientific research and understanding of what makes up physical matter, it's clear that nothing, not the door, nor you, nor this railing you lean upon are actually solid, more a collected whirling mass of atoms, or so it seems. Here we are less dense, and reality allows a different level of access or pass through."

Looking up into his eyes, she saw an entirely new aspect to him. Most of their discussions were either about his history, family events or the occasional tussle about Gull Cottage décor and maintenance, but oddly, she now realized, never about other topics beyond their circle of local activities. "We've never talked about anything like this. Is that part of keeping humans unenlighted about this part of reality?" she asked, wondering. His eyes shining down at her, he smiled, "I never cease to be amazed at your cleverness. Looking over my human years, it was one of my most immense failings in life; I believe that it never did occur to me that any woman actually had a mind of deep and rich value. Now that we've shared this new realm, I look forward to understanding that part of you more fully." With a gleam in his eye that looked, as far as she could determine, anything but intellectual, he took both her hands between his own, and held them to his lips. Gently kissing the tops of her fingers, he continued, "but, if it is not too forward, I must admit there are other aspects of you," he said glancing down her body, and returning with slow consideration back up to her face which delighted in his observations, "I also look forward to understanding."

"Come, do you favor a walk on the beach?" he asked "I want to make sure you are feeling comfortable here, and watching you, I feel you are still not quite acclimated, am I correct?" Stepping forward, she linked her arm in his, "You read me correctly, my dear Captain, I must admit." Patting his arm, she looked up suddenly, "Two out of three, and we've barely begun, that seems to be a good thing." Looking confused at her comment, she smiled coyly, "You don't recall your own poem, or the song from the poem?" "Ah" he said grasping her hand on his arm, "I do now. I have now held your hand in mine, our arms are indeed linked. Come walk with me and let us see if we can recall what else I thought would never be experienced between us."

Walking slowly, arms linked they walked through the gate and down to the outcropping where the stone wall ended, and the path to the beach began. "Daniel, I still can't tell, is it day or night? Why is it so difficult to figure that out here?" "M'dear, you have touched on another aspect of this realm, this plane. Like the clothes and other parts of physical reality here, we also are able to determine many of the other variables. He stopped to demonstrate, "So if you wish it day," he closed his eyes for a moment and the sky brightened around them, "It becomes bright and sunny." She looked up questioningly, "And yes," he continued, "it's not unlike having your own paint box, rainbows can appear, skies may darken and fill with stars, or thunder may sound from a cloudless sky." In rapid succession, she watched amazed as each condition appeared in front of them and them and dissolved into the next. "Can I do that?" she asked hopefully. "No doubt, but like all new activities it takes time to master, I've always liked the ability to force storm and thunder, I suspect that is why that talent follows me back into the human world as well," he smiled vastly pleased to be able to show her these talents. "Until today, I never realized how much I missed sharing all of this with another, with you especially. I doubt it will ever be possible to tell you how important your courage in crossing the bridge is to me," holding her hand, and kissing it, looking straight into her eyes, "I thank you, Carolyn."

"Delighted, in more ways than I know how to tell, Captain," she stopped and looked down at the path where some stones had tumbled and blocked the way close to where the path met the sand. "Here my dear," he said stepping in front of her, "let me proceed and help you across." Working across the loose rocks, he turned to lift her over the barricade. Effortlessly he grasped her waist, and she placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. Fleetingly, she wondered if he would slowly lower her, sliding her body next to his own like two lovers in a Victorian novel. To her surprise, in mid-lift her sweater pulled upward, and his right hand slid underneath and he was touching her, holding her, "finally" was the last thing she thought, as the unexpected warmth of his rough, strong hand against her skin was more wonderful than anything her imagination had created. Unbidden, she moaned in delight at the feelings coursing throughout her body. She felt her feet finally set down on the beach, and as she looked up, was grateful that he showed no intention of breaking the contact.

"Carolyn," was the one word he could speak, unprepared for finally feeling her as he had longed to over the years. He gloried in letting his hands rove across the softness of her skin, his arms wrapping her close, hands reaching underneath the sweater, across her back. Slowly, he pulled one hand up to her face. His blue eyes, deep with desire, focused intently on her, slowly his arm brought her close and the roar of the surf faded as their world reduced to this moment, their first, true kiss. Gently at first, but with more passion they wrapped their bodies even closer. Suddenly, the Captain pulled back, "Madam!" he said with sincere surprise, in fact shock on his face, and he looked at her wide-eyed. "Captain?" she asked, totally confused. "I, I was not expecting" he stammered, "had not anticipated that touch of . . ." she could see him searching for the right word, perhaps a synonym, and giving up, merely said "tongue." Her face suddenly hot with embarrassment she turned away, but his arms held her close. "Please, Carolyn, it was not in the nature of a complaint – hardly that, but in my time, it wasn't something one expected, anticipated from a lady of culture, breeding and elegance."

Slowly he turned her to face him, face still glowing red; she looked up without a word. His hands cupped her face, "Embarrassment suits you Mrs. Muir. Your eyes shine, your face even more beautiful." Finally recapturing some of her composure, Carolyn brought her fingers to his lips. "You see," she began with a small smile, "I did tell you I had no maidenly virtues to protect, didn't I?"

"Not true, and forever more, all your virtues are solidly in my keeping, M'dear, but go on," he said quietly. Still flustered, she continued, "Ah, um, yes, well since your time, this . . . enhancement to kissing has been considered quite usual, and at moments when you are," she paused, seeking the right word, ". . . intimate, it would even be expected. I have to assume that was not true in your time?" She could feel herself blushing again, and looked away, trying to compose herself. He was bemused at her discomfort, and equally sorry for his own reaction and practical lack of understanding that certain aspects of romance had clearly changed beyond his own time and experience. Seeking to set things right, he took her hand and turned her to face him again. "Carolyn," he said very softly, looking deep into her eyes, "say that again." "Say what again?" "Just that one word; intimate. The way you said it now thrilled parts of me I had quite forgotten exist, again, please?"

"Like this?" she softly breathed into his ear, "intimate."

He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes to let the word and all it meant roll through his body. "Perfect," he smiled, bringing her closer. "Now, perhaps you could inform me. Are there other advances in the 20th century I need to know about today? I suspect I may require your education in more than one matter." "Where shall I begin?" she asked. Without a word he drew her close, their lips lightly touching, he whispered, "Here."

No further words of complaint or otherwise were heard. As their bodies pressed closer, they each made key discoveries that pleased them beyond words. Carolyn, leaving her embarrassment far behind, was delighted to perceive that here, on this plane, the Captain's arousal was pronounced, tangible and if she was right, indicated her deepest sexual hopes would soon be fulfilled. As she used her body with one move and another to make that determination, he said his own silent prayer that she was not, as she said quite boldly 'a maiden in need of protection'. She would always have virtue, he knew, but reveled in the knowledge that he would see to it she had more, far more to find joy in, than her virtue alone.

Without their choosing, the sky began to lighten around them, and despite her passionate responses, the Captain took note of both her weariness and the knowledge that their time was fleeting. "My darling," he said softly, "morning will be arriving in the physical world in a bit, and while your body is rested, it cannot rise to begin the day without you safely back in place." Bringing her close for another long, loving kiss, he held her in the curve of his arm, "How do you feel, my beloved?" With no desire to control her feelings, she smiled what she knew had to be a silly, sloppy grin full of deep love and satisfaction, "Loved, Daniel, I feel loved really and truly for the first time in my life." Grasping his hand in her own, she placed her own passionate kiss on his palm, "I am yours, truly deeply and completely," smiling roguishly she added, "kindly remember that when you find me frustrating and 'totally, eternally female', will you?"

"I would expect nothing less, M'dear, and I honestly would be unhappy with anything else, I love you as you are, for all you are." Holding her head against his chest, he wrapped her close. In a moment, they reappeared in the master cabin of Gull Cottage. Looking around she shook her head, "When can I learn to do that?" she asked. Smiling he stroked her face, "Soon I suspect, but surely that might wait for another day, perhaps there are other things to experience first?" he whispered with an erotic tone in her ear. Shivering with delight, she glanced up at him, and her expression told him far better than words, that their next crossing would be memorable.

Turning to look at her sleeping self, Carolyn looked back at him, "How do I return? I'm not at all sure how I stepped out, what do I do?" "Ah, well that is in fact far easier, I am pleased to share," he said softly. Leading her to the mirror, he turned her to one side. "Here," he pointed to a thin golden stream touched with silver visible from the back of her head. She looked curiously at it, trying to see it clearly. "I had forgotten it is clearer to me," he said, understanding her confused look, "since I no longer have the tie. This elegant connection is always there holding your spirit, your deepest self to your body. It is as much a part of you as your laughter, your courage and your heart. It surrounds you here and your body as well. All we have done this night is to stretch the bonds, but no damage can occur. When you are ready to return, merely rest and settle yourself in alignment with your body, and the return happens quite easily and naturally."

"So, when I wake up, what do I remember? Please tell me I won't forget this, I don't think I could bear to have it taken away," she asked urgently. "My belief," he assured her, "my strongest hope and expectation is that this will all be as clear as any other memory in your life. And if any details might fade, I assure you I will be ready to," he paused, and then with his widest lascivious grin he added, "refresh them as needed just as you desire."

Looking at him with narrowed eyes, she seemed torn between laughing and punching him for the outrageous statement, but instead she quickly threw her arms around his neck, grasped at his hair and one last time felt the waves and curls wrap around her fingers. "Don't let me forget," she said quietly. Without another word, she quickly settled into her body, and standing alone, the Captain watched the two parts of the woman he loved rejoin smoothly together.

"Good night my love, my Carolyn," he whispered, and left a soft whisper of a kiss on her hair. In sleep she reached up to touch him, and he heard a frustrated sigh as her hand brushed straight through him.

Blinking as the sunlight filtered into the room, Carolyn first assumed the adventure had merely been another wonderful dream, but slowly, as she awoke, she recalled more details and realized that she had in fact successfully traveled to meet him. They had stood together, hand in hand, and the kiss, well the kisses, and more than the kisses, had all been real. Not of this world, she realized but still real. If she had any further question, the soft sound of a muffled snore behind her removed any lingering doubts. Slowly turning to face the other side of the bed, she watched in happy amazement. There by her side, Captain Daniel Gregg, against every possible odd she could imagine was lying still, and clearly fast asleep on top of the covers. Entranced, she stayed motionless, watching him slumber beside her, the noises quite human and the sight immensely endearing continued until the alarm clock announced the beginning of the new day.


	12. Richard Andrew Robert Muir

As the alarm clock began its harsh ring, she turned quickly to silence it so he might enjoy his rare rest for a minute or two longer. Unfortunately, sleep was such an unusual event; the first sound jarred him awake. Just as the sight of him sleeping surprised her, nearly as much, his finding himself in 'their' bed gave him an equally unexpected start to the day.

"Carolyn," he reached over to her with a thoughtful look on his face, their fingertips nearly touching. "Last I recall, we had returned here to connect you to your resting form, and I stretched out to watch you sleep." "So it seems," she smiled, "and it seems I was not the only one wearied by our wanderings." He looked softly at her for a long moment, "My dearest, not so much the wanderings, as the fulfilled wantings, I think might be responsible for our weariness, don't you think?"

"So, not my imagination at work?" she asked. "Not likely," he said quietly, "for I now no longer need to long for, nor wonder how it is to hold you close, to feel your kiss." "Well, if you want to be truthful, I think there was more than one," she smiled coyly.

Tilting his head, he listened for a moment, "Ah, the family is up and about M'dear." They looked at each other with the unspoken question between them, "I think," he began, "it may be too early in many ways for the children to find me here at the start of the day?" Nodding her head briefly, Carolyn agreed, "I'm sure we'll find the right way to make our new family work – but I agree, let's give them time to be comfortable for a bit before we add more layers for them." He reached out a hand, and she felt a soft caress on her face and he disappeared a second before Candi opened the door two dresses in hand. "Mom, which one should I wear?" he heard as he reappeared in the entryway.

In his own time, Gull Cottage at morning had always been quiet, organized and followed set procedures. Once Carolyn and family arrived, every rule, every expected sense of order had flown. Of course, comparing a house with one occupant vs. five was not easy, and when two of them were under the age of 10, and three of them women, he ruefully had to admit the likelihood of maintaining his usual expectation of discipline and order was nil.

Yet, more and more he found himself pleased with the scrambling disorder the family brought each day. Each individual had their own needs, their own wishes that had to, often in a noisy manner, be balanced out against everyone else in the house. He thought back to his own childhood and realized that as an only child, this was part of life he had not known or understood. As he watched Carolyn driving off with carpool in tow, he found himself more than usually thankful that he had the chance to experience this richer, if less orderly life.

Martha had just cleared the breakfast table, and was enjoying the temporary calm to sit with a quiet cup of coffee. If she was surprised when the Captain appeared, she didn't show it. In fact, she prided herself on a certain level of unflappable calm, and knew it was one thing the Captain and she had in common. This was often an act on her part, and as she watched him, it occurred to her he might also use the same act to disguise his true feelings from time to time. The depth of emotion he had only recently admitted about Mrs. Muir was one item, and his growing visible affection for the children another. It was rare that he appeared for a private chat with her, and true to her nature, she sat, sipping her coffee and waited for him to speak.

"Morning Martha," he said with a brief nod. "Captain. Can I interest you in a cup of coffee?" she said gesturing to the pot. "Actually I've always been more a tea man at breakfast time, if that's possible?" he answered with a smile. "Of course," Martha got up in search of what tea might be in the cupboard, intrigued to learn what was behind his stop in the kitchen. "Lipton's is all we have, will that work?" she turned to show him the bright yellow box. "Of course, thank you Martha," he paused thinking back, "it's interesting, I don't think I've thought of tea in a long while. When I was a boy, I recollect my mother beginning the day with a big pot of Irish breakfast tea for the family; I suppose it is one of my earliest memories."

"Well, I'll add it to the shopping list," Martha smiled as she set a tea kettle on to boil, "obviously our family here is changing, and we'll all be making adjustments." She looked steadily at him, finally getting an idea of what brought him into the kitchen. "Irish breakfast tea, you said?" she asked writing it on the shopping list. "Yes, very kind of you Martha." He paused as she poured the boiling water into the mug, and plopped the tea bag into the steaming liquid. "Here you go Captain, milk or sugar?" "Milk I think, once it's steeped a bit longer," he sat dropping the tea bag in and out of the mug, watching the color deepen. Martha added a bit more coffee to her cup, and stood watching the Captain, intrigued. It was clear he was waiting to broach some subject, and Martha was happy to let him come to it in his own time.

Joining him at the table, she watched him finally remove the tea bag, pour a small amount of milk into the mug, and take a careful sip. "Interesting, a blend of lighter Indian teas, I'd assume, nice."

"I've wondered Captain," Martha asked lightly, "I've never understood how it works for you. In the movies or books, a ghost is merely an illusion. Yet you can certainly move things." "Like tea cups?" he asked taking another sip. "Yes," she smiled, "and that's another question. How is it you can enjoy tea or the occasional glass of Madeira that Mrs. Muir has mentioned?"

"Martha, I wish I could answer you, but alas entering this part of the afterlife does not come with an instruction manual. Especially over the last two days, I have come to realize I understand only a portion of how things work in my current state. It makes me question a wide variety of beliefs I've held, and makes me wonder."

"Wonder?" Martha echoed. "Indeed," he smiled, "when I was in command, I rarely spared a moment thinking about the choices I made, and only occasionally had any concerns for my crew as individual men. Yet, I'm aware that is not the way one must think about a family, true?" He looked at her over his mug. "Captain, are you asking me about how you are doing as part of this family?" Looking out the window, he looked uncomfortable, but turned back to her with a concerned expression, "Partially Martha. I know how much you love and care for this family, and what I think is puzzling me is now that Carolyn and I have shared our deep feelings with one another, and with the family, is that there seems to only be happiness as a result."

"And that's a problem?" Martha asked with a big smile, "Surely anyone else would be delighted. Mrs. Muir adores you, that's obvious and the children love you and respect you at the same time. How is that a problem?"

"Perhaps not a problem, but unexpected at least." He continued, "Since the day you all arrived, it seemed unusual, and until now, I did not feel it was my place to inquire. Mrs. Muir's late husband; he passed just a brief time before you left Philadelphia and moved here, is that right?" Martha, finally understanding his questions, just nodded and let him continue. Frustrated that she would not just offer the information he sought, he continued to try to follow the line of questions he had in mind, "I was wondering, from the first day I never heard Carolyn nor the children mention him at all. Not in mourning, not in missing, not in memory, it is as if he was merely an imaginary character. If her husband's parents had not arrived for that brief visit, I might have wondered if he ever existed at all. It will be difficult to know how to proceed, how to build my new place in this family, if I do not know what occurred, the history if you will."

Watching him thoughtfully, Martha took another sip of coffee, "Captain, isn't this is a better question to ask Mrs. Muir?" He looked at her, no longer willing to be put off, "Perhaps, but I was not seeking her personal story, but rather an independent view of how these unusual circumstances came to be, and that, I believe Martha, is most likely to come from you, true?"

Sighing, Martha stood and looked out the kitchen window and glanced at the clock. "I don't think she would really mind my sharing what I know, but I cannot speak to everything. There are some personal details that I believe are true, but only Mrs. Muir knows for sure."

He sat back in expectant silence, "Kindly clear up at least one point of confusion for me Martha, what was the man's name at least? That blatherskite Blair Thompson said it was Richard, but the man's parents called him Bobby. Confusing enough on its own, and added to all of it, his only son doesn't even carry his name which seems impossible for me to understand. Can you at least provide which name is correct?"

"Perhaps that's the easiest question Captain. You may not know I worked first for the Williams for a year, and then became the cook and housekeeper for Mr. and Mrs. Muir just after their marriage." "Truly?" the Captain asked, "it seems you have a much longer history with her." "I understand her, or as much as anyone would after she married, I think. But I trust I don't need to tell you, she does not share everything about herself easily, does she?" "Not without some concerted effort, I must admit," he smiled at her in confidence. "I have always assumed there was some wound, some reason she is so protective."

"It wasn't always the case," Martha began, "she was different and far more open before she met Richard Andrew Robert Muir, and yes that's the full name, since you ask. I believe after his birth Marjorie Muir was told she couldn't have any other children, so they invested the one son, their only child, with both grandfather names plus one for Ralph's favorite Uncle Robert as well. Even as an infant he was burdened with many expectations long before it was clear if he were up to carrying that particular load. "I assume he wasn't," the Captain said, "based on what I've heard so far?"

"That is how it turned out at least," Martha continued. "To give him credit, he was a charmer. Tall, a kind of sensitive handsomeness, a blend of the two parents. He was creative, smart and never wanted to let anyone down. That, I think was his main failing. Unlike you Captain, he never developed a sense of himself; it wouldn't surprise me that's a big part of why she takes to you so much," she paused looking at him carefully. "While you are definitely your own man, the young Mr. Muir became whatever anyone wanted him to be, at least on the outside. For his father, he pretended to be strong and business-minded, for his mother a son who enjoyed the symphony and arts. For both of them he played the role of perfect society son, went to the right schools, made the right friends, and proposed to the right girl, one who fit into the whole picture of society and success. I've always thought there was something that concerned her, which made her reconsider the engagement, but somehow he talked her into the elopement and that was that. But truly, I don't think, until the end, any of us understood how much of an act it was all along"

Raising his eyebrow, the Captain looked concerned, he had imagined many possible explanations, but none as complicated as this one appeared to be. "And you'd be right to be concerned," Martha said correctly reading his face, "she never saw the downside, never truly saw through the act until after they were married, and even then it still took sometime until she knew what he was, or what he wasn't I guess."

She stood and at the window, paused to watch a car approach, and then pass the cottage. Turning and leaning back against the counter, she continued, "Once she learned he couldn't be counted upon for anything, once she understood that he'd agree to whatever she asked, really what anyone would ask, but never deliver on the promise, Candi was nearly two and she was already carrying Jonathan. When it was clear to him that she saw through him, that she knew him for the fraud he was, he was rarely around, that is unless they needed to be somewhere in public, somewhere in front of the society crowd and the photographers."

"That's why you don't hear the children talk about him at all, they almost never saw him, and it's hard to mourn someone you don't know. Mrs. Muir was mother and father to both of them." "With your help, I'm sure," the Captain added. "I like to think so," Martha said with a smile, "there was never a little family that needed more love. His parents never did admit anything was wrong, and while I know the Williams understood more, they, well, 'society' didn't allow for anything to go wrong with a marriage in the top families, at least not in public."

"We only heard rumors after the accident about what his life was really like." "Accident?" the Captain asked. "Well, that's what they called it, but perhaps only Mrs. Muir really knows what happened, and I've never heard her talk about it. What I do know is she soured on life in Philadelphia, on the whole society world she grew up in and she wanted to make her own life. Coming here to Maine, to Gull Cottage was one of the first things she did for herself, for the family no matter what anyone else thought or said. You've seen for yourself that they still don't understand and keep pressuring her to return." "And the writing," the Captain asked, "where does her ability there surface?"

"From what I understood, she always had a talent for writing. Winning awards in school and being recognized in a number of competitions. Even before she was ever paid for the work, she had many articles published over the years, mainly contributions to local magazines or national publications interested in society or local issues. Once she felt she had enough contacts, and she realized she needed to make her own way, she took to her writing full time. I think it gave her a sense of control, still does I think, and after what she's been through, no need to wonder why it's important to her." Looking out the window again, Martha watched the road, "Ah, she's back, and I've probably said more than I should, but if she hasn't told you any of this yet, I don't blame you for wondering."

"And I don't wonder why she didn't bring it up now, seems like a painful story to live, much less tell," he said. "I'll head out for a bit, you've given me a lot to think over. I appreciate your help and your honesty." Stepping closer, he looked into her eyes for a moment, "Thank you Martha, your trust means much to me." As he disappeared, Martha wiped a tear from her eye. Talking to herself, as she finished the breakfast dishes, "I just hope he never brings her pain, but all of this is so complicated, so unlikely, I can't imagine it going smoothly. But at least he knows, maybe that will help a bit," she finished as the front door opened.


	13. Susan Caroline

Carolyn welcomed the ordinariness of her carpool morning. Keeping to schedule, getting kids in and out of the car gave her a sense that the world was still as expected and normal. With all the new and unforeseen adventures with the Captain. . .or rather Daniel, she corrected herself. 'I'm traveling across dimensions, having the most romantic relationship of my life, and I think at the least, I should be using his first name, shouldn't I? Yet, it feels so comfortable calling him Captain, maybe both might work?'

Looking up into the rearview mirror, she straightened her hair a bit, muttering, "Wonderful, now I'm not just talking to myself, I'm debating with myself too." She got out of the car, and after briefly looking up at the house, she dropped her purse back on the front seat and turned toward the path they had taken the night before. She stood watching the retreating tide, sunlight reflecting on the wide white ribbons pulling across the beach. Perched on the stone wall, she enjoyed the warmth on her face and the quiet, only broken by the occasional call of a gull. Curious, she followed the same route as the previous evening. 'Amazing,' she observed looking over the wall, 'it looks exactly the same.' She proceeded down the path, and noticed the identical rocks barricading the way to the beach. "Everything is the same," she said aloud turning around, surveying the scene. "Except there are no footprints." she realized, "I know it was real. Wasn't it?" she asked of herself.

"Of course it was, every perfect moment," she heard behind her. Turning she saw him smiling down at her, "I can't blame you though; it takes a while to get used to accepting what your eyes tell you is only a fraction of reality."

"Thank you," she smiled at him, still shaking her head, "I needed the reality check – but if I had to go under psychiatric examination, telling them I got the confirmation from a ghost, might be a problem, don't you think?" "Perhaps, but if we got to that point, we'd rewrite their text books together M'dear, that would indeed shock the world at large."

She laughed at the image, "Ah yes, Doctor and Captain Gregg, the worldwide experts on ghostly reality and cross dimensional romance." She pausing thinking for a second, "you know, there's a story, if not a whole book in that idea, remind me to write it down." She felt a whisper against her cheek as his hand brushed by her face, "Personally, I like the idea," he said with meaning, "so you become Doctor _Gregg_, do you?" Her eyes twinkling, she looked up, "I did it again, didn't I? So far, at least, you don't seem put off by my proposals."

"Madam, I hold that the proposal is still the male prerogative, and that there is usually a period of time between the beginning of courtship and a formal proposal, but I'm pleased you are open to the idea." He turned, and headed them back up the path. Not ready to give up their bantering, she continued clearing her throat, "Well, Captain, a woman can't just come up to a man and say," she paused realizing to say the words aloud now were very different than in their earlier sparring. "Can't say," she said in a gentle, beguiling tone, "I love you, will you marry me?"

Walking to her side, he replied, "Why not?" He bent over and whispered in her ear, "I'd be honored if you asked me." Looking directly into his eyes, she continued, "You speak from a very safe position." As they reached the side of the road, he stopped, looking down, "Safe, my darling? Right now, I'd be delighted to be at risk; in fact if you trotted out a reverend this moment, I'd say it in front of witnesses Carolyn." A warm and appreciative smile crossed her face, and taking a long breath, she turned and reached into the car for her purse. Leaning against the car, waiting for her, he asked, "So Doctor, tell me your professional opinion, how is Mrs. Muir doing today? Happy? Content? Confused? Full of questions?"

"In my purely professional opinion?" she asked walking with him to the porch, "I'd say she's overwhelmed but she'll live, and happily at that I think." "Yet, overwhelmed isn't a comfortable state is it?" he responded, "How do we help the patient?"

"Difficult to say, my Captain," she continued, "I still hold to my view the other day, there isn't any expected protocol here. It's not like we are going to be a traditional couple, are we?" Speaking even more quickly, she went on, "No meeting the friends and parents, no dinners out, no family vacations or PTA meetings, unlikely we'll have the usual steps of engagement, marriage, more children or growing old together?" She stopped herself, holding her hands in front of her face. "Daniel, I'm sorry," she said with sorrow, "this isn't truly how I feel, but it's in my head, and somehow you have me sharing more about what goes on there than I should, I'm just blathering, I'm sorry. Please forgive me?"

Sorrow filling his eyes, he stepped closer, a mere breath away from her face, "Don't ever, ever think you need to apologize for sharing what's in your heart. I don't care for you only for the moments of loving closeness and bright sunshine, but also, when we share the moments of darkness, fear and uncertainty as well. I may be new to this kind of intimate caring, but I am certain that only by talking, by sharing can we be closer, be truly together. While I may not share your desire for us to experience PTA meetings together," at that she finally looked up and smiled, "I do share and understand the rest. How I do wish my mother might have known you. It would have been a deep delight for her to know someone cared for her son as you do, my dearest."

"Blast, I don't have a scarf or even a pair of gloves," she said digging about in her coat pocket. "I do so want to hold you, touch you right now." "I'll help you pack in future," he smiled, sweeping a touch of his hand across her hair. "Might I invite you inside, perhaps a cup of tea could be comforting right now?" "Tea?" she asked with quiet disbelief. "Indeed, I have been talking with Martha just this morning that I actually prefer a strong cup of tea at start of day. Irish Breakfast was what my mother prepared, and Martha has promised to add it to her shopping list. For now, she has something called 'Lipton's', if you like?"

"I would, just for you, try your mother's tea, but until then I'll stick with coffee please." Walking side by side, he opened the front door for her, and they walked inside together.

* * *

"Thank you Martha," she said, as the fresh coffee cup appeared in front of her. Bending over she took a sniff of the Captain's teacup, "Really? Are you sure that's enough to start the day? I thought that was just for ladies needing a quiet afternoon pick me up with scones?"

"Woman!" he said with indignation. "How dare you impugn the drink that made England the power of the world?" Giggling, she leaned back, and he was delighted to see her earlier pensive mood passing. "Wait a minute, now it's my turn to ask a few questions," she insisted. "Here you sit, recorded as one of the strongest men in New England of your time," "Pardon me," he interrupted, "THE strongest man of my time, thank you." "As you say," she continued, "yet since meeting your family isn't going to be on our list of 'to do's' kindly reconcile for me your family serving Irish tea, your own obviously cultured English accent and having a great great grandfather who founded Schooner Bay grammar school before the Declaration of Independence?"

He watched Martha turn from the sink, still slowly washing breakfast dishes, clearly listening to their conversation. "Truly? After close to two years you are at long last asking these questions?" "Oh, I am," she smiled, "surely this is a mystery that has an answer?" Martha turned, and he smiled back at her, "Seems to be a day for questions doesn't it?" Martha merely nodded and went back to her dishes. Carolyn looked between the two, but seeing nothing to explain the meaning of their smiles, continued on her own questioning. "It was never due to lack of interest, but merely that it wasn't the right time. Is this the right moment to ask?"

Leaning back in his chair, he looked over to the sink, "Martha is there more tea? I suspect this may take a cup or two?" "Of course Captain," she answered, "let me put the kettle on, I admit to being curious myself."

"It's interesting, as two story tellers," he said, looking at Carolyn, "you and I have never explored our own stories in any detail, M'dear," he finished with a subtle but meaningful look to Martha. With her usual calm, she only acknowledged the reference to their earlier discussion with a subtle nod, but said nothing as she put the kettle back onto the stove. "I may have, in earlier adventures touched on some of this, so kindly do let me know if I'm traversing over territory I've covered before, will you?"

Taking a pause, he began, "I suspect starting from my great, great grandfather Ephraim Elias Gregg, would be a place to start. He was the one who first arrived in Schooner Bay. As you know, he was a seaman, in fact a Captain himself with the Royal Navy. According to family stories he was in line for the admiralty, but his obsession with Lady Theresa prompted him to follow her and her much older husband Lord Whitehorse-Smythe when they came to the colonies in 1734. Her husband had been granted extensive holdings across what is now New Hampshire and southern Maine, and when he died, due to a severe chill that first winter, she was left a widow, but from the journals, I don't think she was particularly desolate, or very alone," he finished with a suggestive grin.

"He retired from active duty, and married Theresa after her year of mourning had concluded. Unfortunately, Lord Whitehouse-Smythe's sons from his first marriage inherited the land grant, but Theresa's settlement and Ephraim's savings allowed them to purchase much of the land in and around Schooner Bay."

"So, you inherited the land also? I thought Claymore was the only one to benefit from Gregg investments?" Carolyn asked. "Not exactly," he paused, "when Ephraim and Theresa began their family, the eldest, my great grandfather, Daniel Ephraim Gregg benefited most from their legacy. In fact, his need for schooling was what prompted the founding of the grammar school. In those early days, there were not a huge number of young children in the area. In time, he also went to sea in the British Navy and married a young woman here when it was still the colonies, Charity Ernestina Gregg, who became my great grandmother. Their house actually was first built here, where Gull Cottage stands today."

Martha paused to fill his tea cup, and refresh the coffee for Carolyn and herself. "I had no idea," she said, "there was so much history in this isolated place." "Hardly isolated Martha," he continued, "in those days this was a robust fishing port and one of the busiest harbors north of Boston. My great grandparents eventually owned a small fishing fleet here and most of their five children, whether they wished to or not, spent time either at sea or in the fishmonger business. Their oldest Ephraim Benedict was lost at sea during a massive storm, leaving my grandfather Jacob Daniel Gregg to take over as the expected next son to head the growth of the business. I don't know if Ephraim married or not, but I've always assumed if Claymore were truly related to the family, it would have been from his side of the Gregg family, it's definite nothing later would have made the connection possible."

"Great grandfather sent Jacob back to England during the war, and that is where he met his wife, Elizabeth. He seemed to prefer the English lifestyle, and settled near Portsmouth, where my own father Alexander Elias was born. "Did he go to sea?" Carolyn asked. "Indeed no, it seemed, like his father, he far preferred the life of commerce. It was during business travel to Cork, in Ireland that he met my mother. Just a moment," he said, raising a finger and disappearing. The two women looked at each other curiously but in a second he reappeared holding a small miniature portrait. "This was she," he said holding out the oval framed painting.

"She's lovely," Carolyn looked carefully at the tiny portrait. Sparkling blue eyes shined in the intelligent face, yet there remained a touch of merriment in her expression. Light red ringlets cascaded down the sides of her face, ivory skin and a very familiar roman nose completed the picture, "What was her name?" "Susan, Susan Caroline actually," he smiled. "As the story was told to me, he saw her walking down the main street in Cork with her mother. He fell in lovely instantly. He had docked in Cork, and was to travel across land to Tralee. He had only planned to stop in Cork for the night and a meal at the inn, but it was long enough to change his life."

"Before he left, he had found out her name, gotten an introduction to the family and learned all he could about her before he departed. Apparently, she had also noticed his interest, with some degree of appreciation, or so my father would joke with her when I was small. "For the sake of a good story," he stopped and smiled, "I wish I could say she said 'what a magnificent man!' at first glance," he said looking with a roguish smile at Carolyn, "but I suspect she was far more circumspect."

"Honestly!" Carolyn grumbled not unhappily, to herself, "one impulsive comment and I hear about it forever! Was your father the heartbreaker his son turned out to be?" "In fact, M'dear, in that we are quite alike," he said, looking intently at her, "upon finding the right one, every other woman truly became inconsequential from that moment onward." Martha, with impeccable timing, stood and turned to the stove for more coffee, as the moment seemed to call for privacy, or as much as she could provide the couple. She busied herself until she heard the Captain, begin to speak again, and only then did she return to hear the rest of the tale.

"My mum was the only daughter of the largest grocer in the Princes Street market, and had shown little interest in the local lads. Seems she had a desire to travel, and that was part of her attraction to my father that he seemed to do a fair bit of traveling; that and her initial good opinion of his looks. Once he returned to Cork, things proceded quickly and I believe they were married only a month of two later." "Which side do you take after?" Martha asked taking the portrait in her hands, "I see the red hair and maybe a bit of her in your eyes, and your nose, that's clearly hers." "I suspect the rest would be Gregg," he agreed, "but in truth, I don't recall her family the Reilly's at all. The first year after my parents' marriage, they remained in Cork, and that was where I was born. We never returned afterwards once we moved to Portsmouth where he kept his business offices. I imagine they thought there would be time to return or visit, but there was not." "Once I was old enough to wonder about her family my mother had been long gone, and my father gone himself."

"I'm sorry to hear that Captain," Martha shared, "I know what it is to lose family when you are young." Both Carolyn and the Captain looked at her in surprise. Martha looked up at them, "My father, mother and baby brother were all lost in the Spanish influenza epidemic when I was barely six," she recalled, the mists of memory hanging in front of her eyes. my sister and I were raised by my Aunt Violet, outside of Boston. She tried her best, but she had never wanted to be a mother, her career as a musician was the center of her life. When she wasn't teaching violin, she was performing in Boston or other places. We still call her mother though. Funny," she paused, "I haven't thought about all of this in years. It's interesting that we share a common beginning Captain," she smiled at him.

"Indeed Martha, my own mother passed when I was nine," looking at Carolyn he went on, "just about Candi's age, I believe. She succumbed to scarlet fever; it took her and the child she carried. Portsmouth being such a major sailing port; we had travelers coming from around the world and with them they brought their diseases. My father was devastated, and after we laid mam and my small sister to rest, he thought it best to bring me here to America, with the belief that living here in Schooner Bay with my great grandparents would be healthier. We came here about 1840, and he went back to his business travels. I never saw him again."

Taking his teacup in hand, and taking a sip, he recalled, "It's odd, so much of those early years are hard to recall, yet my father's voice coming in for a morning cup of tea still is vivid in my mind. Each day he'd come down stairs looking for my mum. I could hear him call out, 'Give us a kiss, my girl' and she'd laugh and he'd sweep her into his arms. As long as I could hear that, all seemed right with the world."

He stopped again, recalling those special moments, "He died on Java from fever, alone on the far side of the world. My great grandfather died shortly after I arrived, and great grandmother Charity survived until just after I joined the Navy here as an apprentice at 13. I suspect I was a great trial to her, she was quite old then and I was always getting into one scrape or another, filling her house with stray dogs and other pets, and no doubt piles of dirt and destruction. I'm just sorry after all the years of mud, messes and upheaval she never knew I learned how to be 'ship shape' at last," he finished.

Martha replied softly, "Oh, if you had, I'm sure would she have been pleased, but I can only imagine how lonely she was after you left, with her clean house and spotless floors – I know I would have been."

Smiling, he looked at both women, "Perhaps, but we'll never know. I was at sea a long while. Whatever Gregg relatives had been here by the time I made landfall here had moved away long before. Once I reached the rank of Captain, I fulfilled my promise to return and stay. The family home had been unoccupied for years, so I saved what I could before they tore it down, and built Gull Cottage as you see it today. Not much remained, yet a surprising amount of the kitchen is unchanged," he said, looking around the room. "See," Martha interrupted with a laugh, "I told you this kitchen was ancient!" Laughing with her, Carolyn reached out and placed her hand near his, "What else remains from their home?" "The children's bedroom has the most of what I could retrieve," he told her. "The silhouettes were those of my grandfather Jacob and his eldest sister, Charlotte, or so I was told. Although I never imagined marrying or having children here, I kept the pictures and the room as I remembered it during my own childhood years." "I'm glad you did," Carolyn said fondly, "I hope you can tell Jonathan and Candi one day that they sleep under the watch of your family members. I wondered about the portraits, and much, much more. I'm so happy to know your story."

Looking up at the clock, she jumped up. "I've totally lost track of time, I promised the editor at _**Boston Life**_ I'd call to talk about my next article 10 minutes ago!" With that she dashed out of the kitchen and upstairs to her desk.

Leaning his chair back and balancing on two legs, the Captain, took a final swallow of tea, and realized Martha was watching him carefully. "So, that's how you're planning to start getting her to talk about her past by beginning yourself?" Looking at her thoughtfully, he confessed, "It seemed like a reasonable first step, don't you agree?" She walked forward and pushed his chair so all four legs hit the floor solidly, "I do, but no matter how clever you are, I still don't allow anyone to scuff my kitchen floor!" she finished with a wide grin.

Standing, he carefully slid the chair back in place under the table. "Martha, thank you again for everything," he said and disappeared. She had the illusion of a kiss on her cheek, but she brushed the thought away and turned to preparing lunch.


	14. Out of Order is the Order of the Day

She leaned back after hanging up the phone. She was delighted at the good news. The editor, Jim Thomas, who knew her from her Philadelphia days, wanted a three part series about her views on what it was like to move from a metropolitan area to a small New England town. They wanted insights on general cultural changes, the impacts on her children and her personal perspective on the unexpected shifts the move had created in her day-to-day life. 'I don't think I can provide a complete reflection on that' she thought with a smile to herself.

"Good news, M'dear?" the Captain asked as he appeared at the telescope. "Yes, I have a three part article, that'll be good for keeping the bills at bay and let me put something aside for the next house repair emergency too! The editor is an old friend from Philadelphia. Seems there is a lot of interest in people leaving the 'rat race' and moving to rural areas. He wants me to do a personal story about how my life has changed. Kind of a compare and contrast of big city versus village worlds; how it looks from my view and those of the children."

"Pity, some of your most interesting experiences will be unlikely to be included in those pages," he said, "your readers will never know what they've missed." She stood and walked out to the window and turned back to him with a satisfied smile, "Our minds are running alike Captain, I had the same first thought, but I hope the story, without ghostly intervention might be interesting by itself. I was going to take a walk and start thinking through the storyline. Would you care to go with me?"

"Delighted. Have you ever taken the path over the hillside trail? I know you enjoy the beach, but the hilltop is especially lovely this time of year." "Hillside? I think I've heard Jonathan mention it, isn't that where you two have the occasional adventure?" "From time to time," he admitted, "I believe our last outing there, we were reliving the last battle between early settlers and Indian forces, I'm delighted to share that we were victorious."

Laughing at the thought of the two of them facing imaginary battles, it reminded her, yet again, why despite all the practical barriers, she always wanted him in their lives. Richard never once participated in the childhood games, or even cared enough to know what they played among themselves. Hunting for a notebook with empty pages and a couple of pens, she reached into the closet for a coat. "Here, it's a warm day, no need to bring a jacket" he reached out, "I can fit those in my pocket," she passed the notebook and pens to him, and they headed downstairs. She dashed back a second later and tucked a pair of gloves and a scarf in the pocket of her skirt, and with a rueful smile at herself in the mirror, she hurried back to join him.

"Martha," she called into the kitchen, "I'm heading out. . . or actually we're heading out to work on my new series for _Boston Life_, but we'll be back in time for lunch, ok?" "Fine Mrs. Muir, lunch will hold until you come back," Martha responded as she heard the door open and then close. With a knowing smile, she added, "Enjoy yourselves."

As they turned toward the back of the house, they started up the rambling path that headed up the hillside. Carolyn paused to pull on her gloves and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. Pausing, he smiled down at her, "I'm so pleased you packed the necessities, this isn't the easiest climb, and it'll make it simpler to help you over the rough patches." "Actually Captain, that's a lovely thought, but surely that's not the only benefit?" she gave his arm a gentle squeeze, and keeping step with him they continued up the winding trail.

The sun was shining and with the steep climb, she found it warm going. They stopped at curve in the path, overlooking the house and the beach below. "You were looking for a place to think over the changes in your life?" She looked up at him with a wondering expression. "For your article Madam, surely you don't think every conversation is solely about the two of us?"

He guided her to a carved out part of the rocky hillside. "I often sought a bit of solitude here; I had the workmen craft this niche when they were building Gull Cottage so I'd have a hidden getaway for just such moments. I hope you find it beneficial as well." Smiling she settled down as he sat beside her. "It's lovely," she said looking across the vista, "what a good idea, a change in perspective is very much appreciated." "I'm glad," he smiled, "so where do you wish to begin?"

"Honestly? I'd love to know what you and Martha were chatting about this morning," she began. He raised his eyebrow in surprise, not expecting her to take a different tack than the one he intended. She looked up at him from the corner of her eye and smiled broadly. "Surely you knew I'd wonder, didn't you? Daniel Gregg, in the course of one morning I've learned more about your day-to-day life and history than I have over the last two years. AND it happens just after you and Martha have a chummy chat? Yes, I wondered, but when Jim told me the articles he wanted, I had no option but to admit that if you, Martha and fate all conspired I should pay attention."

Leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, she looked across the horizon. "Captain," she said wistfully, "you know, when I was ranting earlier, there was one part I did truly mean. Part of me regrets we can't live our lives in a normal and predictable manner. I mean, we didn't even meet in a practical way. We were thrown together and had to figure out how to live in the same house before we knew anything about each other, about our lives or anything else really. It would have been nice if we had some of that. . . I would have liked to" She sighed and went quiet.

Continuing her train of thought for a moment he said, "Indeed, I dearly would have enjoyed the kind of meeting my parents had in their life. Perhaps seeing you for the first time in a glow of candle light across a ballroom, or merely being enamored by the sight of you suddenly appearing in a doorway. I would have found a way to be introduced, gotten to know and understand you, to be charmed by you, and then knowing you," he paused and looked intently into her eyes, "knowing you, shall we say, better."

He leaned a bit closer, and said in an intimate soft voice, "My Carolyn, our lives have so little to do with usual and customary, and likely never will. In all those years after my passing, it is true, I was isolated and alone, and that makes it mark on anyone. Then you and the family arrived in a second. From our first moments, it was about managing sharing living quarters and making our lives blend. By the time we achieved some semblance of that, we bypassed the normal 'how do you do and tell me about your life before we met' questions. So since we need to," he paused and took both her hands in his own, "embrace this life where out of order is the order of the day, may I begin again?

He stood, walked out to the pathway, turned and approached her. Standing in front of her he bowed formally and said, "Mrs. Muir, Captain Daniel Gregg, I am delighted to make your acquaintance."

Taking her gloved hand, in his hand, he gently bowed and placed a gentle, respectful kiss on her hand. "So pleased to meet you, Captain Gregg. So tell me, if this was how we would have met, in your world, what happens next?" She asked bemused about this fanciful revision.

"Oh, very little at first, I'd sit next to you in a room full of other people. Propriety must be observed you know," he reminded her as he rejoined her on the bench carved into the hillside. "You would tell me how you happened to be in Schooner Bay, we would discuss people we knew in common, or places we had seen, other topics of safe and unremarkable nature. Nevertheless, I assure you, before I let you go, I would make sure you knew I admired you and wanted to see you again." Getting into the spirit of the game, she continued, "And I would, I expect let you know I was widowed with two small children, and I would want to learn if that unsettled you or if you would vanish once I told you that particular news."

"And since we know that was not something that daunted me in the slightest, we'd arrange to meet again," he continued. "We'd walk, still somewhere public, but where we would be able to have a more private conversation." Taking her hand again, he continued, "I'd be able to tell you the green velvet of your eyes rivaled the deepest green in the oceans of the south pacific and that no shimmer of moonlight could surpass the sparkle of your smile. And at long last, I'd ask about your life in Philadelphia, what was it like and what prompted you to leave the big city for our quiet waters here in Schooner Bay?" She looked up at him, realizing the game was ending and ready or not she finally had to prepare to share her own story. "You mean more than, I assume," she took a deep breath, "than merely the lady is widowed and needs to find affordable living quarters?" "Only if she, if _**you**_ want to tell me, M'dear."

Leaning back, she took a long long look at him, "Let's begin, what do you know, or think you know? I'll start from there."

"I believe you learned the man you married was not what he appeared, and it caused you pain. I would also say I believe you have successfully hidden much of this from the children, but at a severe cost to yourself. Do know I ask only because I wish to be of help, not just out of idle curiosity. It is painful to see what wounds he caused and I hope I might be able to help heal them, if I may. Am I mistaken?"

"No," she looked pensive.

"I've come to believe that in many ways, we are the products of what our pain and disappointments create. Richard was cosseted and pampered. Ralph and Marjorie kept every failure from touching him. Bad behavior in school, it was always someone else's fault. Poor grades, an inept teacher. Inability to make a sports team, Ralph was there with a check to grease the way. In the beginning, I thought each failed business endeavor, each bad investment, every impossible choice was different, but no matter the situation, it was never his fault. He was a victim, or believed he was, of epic proportions.

My friends thought it was fate when we met. It's true; we looked the part of Philadelphia society, each from good families, well connected and very much a solid next generation. I knew he was spoiled and self-indulgent, but assumed that was just the result of being an only child, only son from over protective parents. I believed, well, hoped once he was on his own, married and making his own choices it would be corrected." "So, I assume you had doubts even then?" he asked quietly, "how did the elopement occur?"

Looking down and shaking her head, she looked up with a sheepish expression, "Actually it was my idea to elope. I couldn't face the huge production that both our families expected. Every instinct I had told me the quicker we built our own lives, the better it would be. It might have worked, but it turns out that was the last thing he did without their approval. I don't know whose life he was living, but it wasn't his own. He had to take the 'right' job to please his father, needed to start a family almost immediately to please both of them. I was anxious enough about being married, and wasn't ready to be a mother, but he wanted, needed a son, a next generation of Muir to meet his father's hopes. As it turned out, I was expecting Candi before our first anniversary. When she arrived it was dreadful, his disappointment, as he said to 'only have a girl'. I have always tried to keep Candi from feeling or understanding he had no interest in a daughter."

A sudden rumble sounded from the clear sky, "What kind of cad would deny that beautiful child?" Reaching over to hold his hand, she looked up sadly, "Daniel, as far as he felt, she was an object, a failed object. He hadn't the slightest idea or interest in knowing anything about her." Shaking his head in disbelief, he grasped her hand tightly, and settled back to hear the rest.

"I could tell you so much more, but it all was really the same issues over and over again. When I was having Jonathan that was the final bit of hope I had for us. Once we had a son, I knew nothing would make me offer him up on the altar of the 'next Muir generation'. Needless to say naming him Jonathan was not popular with any of the Muir family."

"I still don't know where I got that strength, but I do know once we got home from the hospital that our marriage had practically ended. Richard knew he couldn't force my hand, wouldn't be able to change my thinking. It was like living in a house with a stranger, that is whenever he was there at all. And that wasn't very often. The only thing we did together after that was fight. We fought and fought." She looked up with a weary smile, "Captain, you may have noticed I also have a temper. I was tired of being the only grown up, the only one who had to pay the consequences for his inability to think, understand and plan for consequences. In the odd moments when he did think, did follow through it'd be my fault for not trusting him, when it went wrong; it was still my fault for expecting to trust him, to not understand him enough to make a better plan."

"That last evening, thank heavens the kids were with my parents for an overnight stay. I will always be thankful they never heard that argument. I was ready to leave, told him he had failed me in every possible way, and was unable to be a real father to either of our children. When he finished his own tirade, he stormed out, both of us in tears and he drove off. The horrible part is no one can know for sure, how his car ended up underwater off Penn Landing. I'll always know I played a role in what happened, whether it was an accident or something else. Daniel, sometimes I think the worst part isn't the guilt, but the immense sense of relief that I didn't – the three of us didn't have to live that life any more."

Unable to hold her as he desperately wanted, he kept tightly grasping her hands. She didn't sob; rather let her tears fall silently down her face. "It is a tough combination to balance, and it's always been easier to just ignore it, rather than try to figure out something without an answer. Does that make any sense?"

"Thank you my love, thank you for sharing all of this," he whispered softly into her ear. "I'll never ask again, and you and I together will make sure the children forever more only know how loved and wanted they are here at Gull Cottage. You have my word Carolyn."

Taking a deep, shuddering breath she stood up and taking his hand pulled him up to join her. "It's an old pain Daniel, just new to you, but I'm glad we can get through it now together." She turned to watch the ocean waves for a moment, and he carefully wrapped his arms around her. They stood silently until far below, they heard Martha call that lunch was ready.

"I'm not. . . can't right now," she turned to look at him. Nodding he disappeared, and returned a few moments later with a small basket in his hands. "Martha suggests a picnic at hilltop might be the better choice, shall we go on?"

He held out his hand, she grasped it with her own gloved hand, and they headed out, up the path together.


	15. Together

_(Against my personal wishes, this bit is rather more steamy than I expected, but after all this time, I couldn't deny what the Captain and his lady said they needed to occur, apologies to anyone who finds the veiled facts too suggestive - gsc)_

Carolyn was leaning against a tree at the peak of the hilltop, notebook perched on top of her lap, scribbling away. All the conversations, memories and stories had set her imagination to work, and she had outlined much of the first two parts of her article series, and was jotting down random ideas and things to include in greater depth. Looking up, she paused to enjoy the greenery and long view across the Atlantic. As she looked around, the budding trees and bushes made it clear spring was coming at last. She just hoped they had seen the end of the snow, but knew that they couldn't count on that until end of May at earliest.

Looking over her shoulder, she spotted the Captain, leaning against a mound of rocks, immersed in his own book. "Daniel, did I thank you for bringing me up here? I can't think when I've made such easy progress on a new project." A soft expression crossed her face, "I'm not sure if it's the place, the company or both, but I'm happy with everything. Thought you should know," she smiled as she turned back to her work.

Not saying a word, he lowered his book and watched her for a moment. Somehow, all that they shared today, both his history and her story of what occurred in her marriage to Richard Muir, created an even stronger bond between them. He puzzled over it a bit. In the few days since they had broken down, admitted their feelings for one another, so many things had changed. He never expected the incredible shifts, both in how he viewed Jonathan, and after today's chat, he would have to spend extra time making sure Candi knew how truly wonderful a young woman she was becoming. Looking up again, watching Carolyn, tongue peeking out one side of her mouth as she wrote, crossed out a line, rewrote, and reworked the words until she had captured exactly the thought she wanted. 'And I thought I loved her before,' he mused, 'I had no idea, and I'm just beginning to see there is more, much more to experience.'

"Carolyn," he called over to her. "Yes," she said in a distracted tone, "I'm nearly at a stopping point," she wrote a bit faster, "what's up?" "Merely that the sun is heading closer to the horizon. Martha returned home with the children some time ago, and one of us still has a bit of a walk ahead of her, so time to head back, I'd think?" She finished her final sentence with a flourish, "all right, ready to go sir!" Putting her notebook and pens together, she pulled on her gloves, "Care to give me a hand?" He came over, stood in front of her, smiling at her carefree spirit, "Anytime, M'dear, anytime," and reached out his hands. He brought her swiftly to her feet, and she moved within a fraction of his face, their hands still intertwined. They both paused, savoring the closeness, yet wildly aware that in their current state, nothing more was possible. He rested his face along her hair, she felt the whisper of him, could sense him, and that alone was stirring her more deeply than she would have imagined.

"Carolyn," he sighed into her ear as she looked up into his eyes. She took one hand and touched his lips with a gloved finger. "Yes. Yes Daniel." She moved her lips close to him, and each felt an echo, a wisp of the other. "Yes, my love," she continued, "would you help me cross the bridge again, I do not think, after this day; I could bear to not touch you, hold you. Will you?"

Unable to act, or even find the right words, he took both her hands in his own, placed a tender kiss there and hoped his nod and his look said what he could not. "Come M'dear, the family is missing you. You will find it easier going down than up, I'm sure. But my hand is yours." Joining him back on the path, they headed home, hand in hand, as they disappeared around the curve, behind the budding trees.

Twilight was upon them as they entered the yard, and walked up the front steps together. The front door burst open with both children dashing to meet them. "Mom! Captain!," shouted Jonathan. "Gee, you guys have been gone a long time. Martha said you were working on another article, where'd you go?" Candi asked. "We missed you," Carolyn said, grabbing the two of them in a big hug. "Indeed," the Captain added, carefully tousling the hair of both, and giving Candi an especially welcoming smile.

"Inside everyone," Martha ordered from the doorway, "dinner is nearly ready, and uh, Mrs. Muir I have a favor to ask." "What Martha?" "Well, Ed Peavey called while you were out, and asked if I'd join him at the movies this evening, they've finally gotten the reissue of _Gone with the Wind_ at the Bijou. We were going to get an early dinner before the movie at Norrie's. Would you mind if I borrowed the car?" Carolyn smiled widely, and noticed the Captain listening behind her, "Really, dinner AND a movie, sounds like a special evening Martha." "Mrs. Muir," Martha continued, blushing slightly, "would you mind just stacking the dishes after dinner? I'll handle then as soon as I get home." "Nonsense Martha," Carolyn said firmly, "you go and have a good time, we can take care of the dishes, right guys?" she looked at the agreeable faces of the children, and noticed the Captain clearly ready to take on kitchen duty. "Of course Martha," he stepped forward, "this crew and I can make short work of the kitchen work. Have a wonderful evening."

"If you're sure, then I should go now, so I'm not late. Bye everyone, enjoy the clam muddle!" Martha grabbed her coat, purse and car keys off the bench by the front door and left the family to get started on their own dinner.

Working together, after dinner was finished, and Jonathan had been denied a 2nd serving of berry pie and ice cream, they began cleaning up to Martha's standards.

"Come on lad," he encouraged him, "we can show these women how real men can wash a dish, pull up a chair!" Laughing, Jonathan poured soap into the sink as the Captain let the hot water run over the dishes. "Candi, grab a couple of towels," Carolyn joined in, let's show them we can dry faster than they can wash!" Standing at the ready, the Captain washed, Jonathan rinsed and handed each dish over. A number of private looks flew back and forth between the Carolyn and the Captain, a happy appreciation of this close family moment, and another bond bringing them all closer together.

Examining a dish, Candi called out, "Hey this one still has left over muddle on it. Mom, I think we need a new washer!" "What! Me not a thorough washer, I'm astounded," the Captain said with a smile. "Well, if you insist Miss Candi, I relinquish the washing to your Mother. Hand me a towel, Madam." Stepping to the sink, Carolyn whispered to Jonathan, "You need to check more closely, we can't have them win." "Gotcha Mom," Jonathan said in a louder whisper.

"Candi, toss the plates over here," the Captain said as he opened the plate cabinet. One by one, Candi gently tossed clean dishes to him. Rapidly the pile was stacked in place, and the kitchen put in order. "Well done, my girl," the Captain said, ruffling Candi's hair. "We showed them who the real experts are, didn't we?" "Sure did Captain," she smiled happily.

"OK, dishes done, now time to have clean children," Carolyn announced. "It's your time to go first, I think, right Candi?" Candi dashed upstairs, and they heard the water running in the tub. "Jonathan," the Captain turned his way, "homework finished?" "Uh, there's a spelling test tomorrow, and I guess I should study some more?" "If you think so, then I assume you can use the work," the Captain agreed. "Head upstairs and do your review, I'll be up to quiz you in a bit, all right?" "Yes sir, Captain!" Jonathan smiled and headed upstairs himself.

Standing in the darkened kitchen, Carolyn smiled up at him, "Thank you that was a perfect dinner." "Perfect?" he asked. "Maybe not perfect, but after all our talks today, this reminds me what I always hoped a family evening might be," she said thoughtfully, "just people happy to be together, doing simple, ordinary things." "Well then," he said with his own self-satisfied smile, "then perfect it is, M'dear."

"Mom!" "Captain" the children said in near unison, "Well a bit more family time," he murmured in her ear, but hopefully time for the two of us soon?" Side by side, they headed upstairs slowly, with a happy look shared between them.

At long last, baths finished, homework checked, the Captain and Mrs. Muir stood in the children's doorway. "Sleep sweet you two," Carolyn said. "See you in the morning," the Captain said softly as he closed the door. Looking in each other's eyes, they breathed a sigh of relief and happiness that this part of the day had come to an end. "Daniel," she said softly, "it is a pity you never got to be a father before now, you are wonderful to watch. You listen, you're patient and they both know how much you care. Thank you." He stood watching her, amazed that she was so appreciative, so grateful for what he thought was a small and expected thing. "Come here," he said. She leaned near, their faces close, able to feel each other by sense, if not by touch. "My dearest," he said softly, "I love you." The look in their eyes showed how deeply touched they were by the depth of emotion they saw in the other, "I love you too, my Captain." The quiet exchange was interrupted from the children's room, "Oooh! I knew it, I told you Jonathan!" "Ugh Candi, quit being mushy, yeech!"

Their eyes met and they shared a silent laugh, "Is this part of being a parent, M'dear? Must we endure scoffing and being scorned?" he asked. "Well," she grinned shaking her head, "maybe not scorned, but certainly being noticed, I think," she laughed quietly. "Didn't you expect them to have an opinion?" "Perhaps, but why don't I go back and settle them a bit. I'll see you in OUR room," he said more loudly than needed to make an impression. She smiled and nodded as he turned, opened the children's door with a sudden whoosh, "Did you two have something to say?" he asked as the room erupted in giggles as he stepped back inside.

While she waited for him to return, she stood on the balcony, wrapped in Vanessa's shawl, more happy than she imagined she could be about their all too normal and silly evening. She turned to watch as the door opened, "Well, I think they are finally ready to settle for the night, M'dear," he announced as he joined her. "Gave you a hard time, did they?" she asked. Laughing quietly he admitted, "Not at all, I think it was just they are pleased, I think very pleased about how things are proceeding with all of us. They needed to express themselves a bit, that's all," he said with some pride in his voice. His arms around her, she took a deep breath, and after a long pause began, "Daniel, would you mind if I said something you may not agree with?" "I don't know, M'dear, what do you have in mind?" he said with concern.

"I don't know another way to say this, but I do need you to know I've listened, paid attention, and deeply appreciate the customs, the ways of relationships in your time. But, there is one thing I believe absolutely, more tonight than every before. Marriage, at its best, is about the day to day, being there for each other in the moment. Not what you say, but how you are." She turned to face him, and taking a long breath to steady herself, she continued, "I firmly believe we will one day find a way to say the right words to each other, in the right way, but I'm certain it will never make us more married than we are right now, this minute."

She watched him hoping, and could see his feelings battle across his face, as he understood her meaning. At last, he looked at her, "My darling, I can only make one suggestion." She looked up with curiosity, "M'dear, might I suggest tonight, you sleep in the guest room?" Totally confused, she began to speak, but a soft ghostly finger stopped her, "Carolyn, how else would we leave this room available? A private place for us?" As she understood, she gave him a breathtaking smile, "Really?" He placed a whisper of a kiss against her temple, "I've resisted you longer than I ever imagined, so yes my dearest, yes."

"Let me change and I'll meet you there in a moment," she said quietly, and disappeared in the closet. It was only a few minutes later she entered the guest room, with the Captain waiting for her. "I've placed a suggestion in the children that they will sleep soundly until called for the morning" he assured her. "After her night out, I'm not worried about Martha, who appears to be a very sound sleeper. Now we just need to get you, or rather your body, your physical self settled as well."

With a dramatic flair, Carolyn spun around, wearing the white nightgown set he remembered when the lost couple arrived at Gull Cottage, and were married by Claymore in the middle of the night. She removed the lacy covering over the low cut, white lace gown. "Even more lovely than I recalled," he said, waiting with appreciation as she pulled back the covers and slipped underneath.

He stood beside her, and then sat on the edge of the bed tucking the covers around her, "Let me help you on your way to sleep, M'dear. Once you are settled, I'll be back to help you cross the bridge." As she snuggled down, he placed a soft hand on her hair, and he was pleased to see he was able to direct her into a sleeping state without difficulty. "Take a moment, my dearest, I'll be back in a second," he said as he disappeared.

Pleased that his preparations were complete, he returned to the guest room. "Carolyn," he called softly, "my darling, my love, please, join me. . ." He was startled a bit, that her hand instantly found its way into his own, and she pulled herself up and stood beside him. No words were spoken, but he brought her into the circle of his arms, and he kissed her, not the previous soft, gentle and loving sort, but one that could only be interpreted as one complete with white-hot passion, one that would not be restrained or limited by manners or proper convention. Bringing her closer, their bodies pressing fast together, she stood, eyes full of passion, watching as he had a last moment warring between his beliefs and his desire to no longer delay. "Please," she begged, "no more, please no more waiting Daniel… please," she whispered as she kissed him deeply, leaving no doubts about her own desires.

She heard a groan deep in his throat, one born of surrender and his intense need for her combined. He swept her into his arms, nudged the guest room door closed behind them and carried her into their bedroom.

Holding her in his arms, he smiled and kissed her deeply. "My darling, if married is what we are, in truth, if not in form, at the very least I can carry you across our threshold tonight," kissing her again, as her arms wove tightly around his neck, "welcome home, my Carolyn."

He set her on her feet, and she buried her face against his chest as he closed and locked the door behind them. Breathing deeply, he heard her murmur, "My own, at last." He tilted her head up, running soft kisses over her eyes, down her neck as her hands reached inside his jacket, under his sweater, and she was able at last, to grasp him gently, passionately. She gasped, and pushed more tightly against him. Looking up she smiled suggestively, "Daniel, I'm here, in the merest wisp of a nightgown, perhaps you are a tad overdressed?"

Raising a suggestive eyebrow, he frowned slightly with a twinkle in his eye, "Carolyn, is this another 20th Century innovation?" "You mean knowing what you desire, whom you desire and what you desperately need? Surely that isn't something women only discovered in my time?" she said in a sultry voice. He took both of her hands in his own and led her down onto a soft cover in front of the fireplace. She noticed an iced bottle of champagne, glasses and a roaring fire in front of her. "Contain yourself, a bit woman," he scolded in a laughing voice, and opening the bottle, poured her a sparkling glass, and placed it in her hand.

Setting down beside her, he shifted his own apparel, his clothes faded and he was clad only in a long, loose, open shirt, one she noticed made the muscles and hair on his chest invitingly visible. Filling a glass for himself, he raised his glass to hers. "If you say 'Good Health', I'm throwing this at you," she said with a laugh. "Unlikely," he smiled, "what I wanted to say is from Ovid," he paused and looked steadily into her eyes, "my dearest, you have proven his statement, 'Love is no assignment for cowards,' thank you my love, for your courage, bravery, and most of all for loving me." Touching glasses, he sipped slowly, watching her. She took a brief sip, and set her glass down.

As she moved closer, he dropped his glass, and wrapped his arms around her and drew her to the floor. He made a brief gesture, and the lights turned off, leaving the two in the flickering firelight. Even the slight barriers of shirt and nightgown were too restrictive. He gloried in the feel of her next to him, but hungry to know the complete sensation of her body, he pulled her nightgown over her head. Marveling in finally having all of her, being able to reach areas that had only been in his imagination, he wrapped her close, and his kisses flew across her body. His passion, her responses increased, and stopping just for a moment, he slowly took time to take in every inch of her with first his eyes, his fingers then began gliding across her skin, stopping from place to place as she gasped, eyes closed, unable to believe the sensations were real, and no longer in her dreams.

He tucked her up into his arms and carried her gently to their bed. As she lay, waiting expectantly, he pulled the shirt over his head and joined her together in their bed, grasping, taking the measure of each other joyously. She equally took her fill of him, knew the touch of each part of his body. When finally, they were able to resist no longer, he thrust into her, at last their shared passion exploded, and his cry of "Carolyn!" served as both a victory cry and announcement that they were one, in the way they had always dreamed, at last.

Stars were still shining in the sky, and the fire had died down to a few glowing embers when they woke to hear Martha coming in the front door. "What time is it?" Carolyn whispered, knowing he was also awake and listening to her return. "Two bells, I believe," he said snuggling down closer to her ear, "or 1 in the morning for landlubbers, my dear." "Then I'd bet she had a nice evening herself." "NICE, you wanton hussy, you dare call this unparalleled evening, this night of legendary romance, NICE?" He grasped her waist and began to tickle her furiously. As she burst into laughter, she buried her face under the covers, and found herself distracted as she moved further under the blankets. "I give, I give, I surrender!" she giggled. "I think you already did, M'dear!" he said reaching for her as she continued to burrow. "Truly, really," she called muffled under the covers, "it was glorious, resplendent . . . and hmmm, not over I see." He ceased his attack, unwilling to interrupt her most satisfying explorations even for a moment and was amazed, and incredibly pleased at what he assumed must be another 20th century innovation that wives now had at their disposal and use, he was only too delighted with this change as well, and to have her initiate with him yet another surprise.

In time, as they stilled, and she was back in his arms again, he stroked her hair, "Carolyn," he whispered softly aloud, "my bride, my love." She rested her head on the middle of his chest, and began a series of kisses from there slowly up his neck, and finishing at his lips, warm, deep and sensuous kisses. Pulling back the covers, she rolled back on her side, smiling contentedly. His finger traced a path from her nose downward, watching, looking at her, he whispered as his finger continued its journey, "You are delicate, beautiful, perfect . . ." and pulling her close again, "mine."

Taking her face in his hands, he placed his own kisses, each one deeper than before, and knowing the joy of being together again, they gloried in that joining through the rest of the night.

The sky had only begun to lighten, when they woke from a brief slumber. Carolyn had to rub her eyes, shake her head to understand that at long last this had not been a dream, that they had finally joined together. She felt his beard rub against her neck, as his hands wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her back closer to him. "Hmm, I do not believe I ever imagined starting a day so wonderfully." Gently, just holding her, fleeting touches moving from place to place, she could feel, as well as hear the rumbling vibration of a tuneless hum coming from his throat. Looking down, she smiled at the sight of their feet together dangling outside of the covers, "You know, I've never seen your feet before," she observed. "Actually you haven't seen most of me before this night, M'dear." She happily slapped him gently, "Behave!" "Hardly the time to begin now, I think." "Happy?" she asked. "Beyond happy, I don't have words for how I feel today, and you?" She turned, eyes shining, "I would have thought you had more the sufficient evidence of my feelings, Captain Gregg," looking over at the window, she sighed, "and unless you are shifting the sky again, I suspect the day is beginning?" she took his hand in her own and nuzzled her face in his palm. "Perfect, it is more perfect than any fantasy I ever had about our finally being together," she admitted quietly, "thank you my dearest."

Snuggling her closer, he whispered, "Stay a few moments more my darling." Wordlessly they stayed wrapped in each other's arms, until they heard Martha's steady footsteps coming up the stairs. They heard her open the children's door, and as they slowly got out of bed to start the day, they heard Jonathan tell her, "Martha, you missed the BEST night every, we had a really great time, and we heard the Captain tell Mom he loved her AND she said she loved him back, it was really really mushy, but great!" Candi joined in, "well maybe a little mushy, but he's right it was just like we always wished for, that all of us would be a family together for real!" "Truly," Martha said intrigued, "come on down for breakfast and we can talk about it some more. Now get a move on!"

Trying to stop their happy laughter, but failing, the Captain whisked Carolyn under the covers, it was there he held her close and transported her back to the guest room. Looking down at her sleeping body, Carolyn sighed and gave him one last kiss, he pulled her closer, his arm wrapped her tightly and then helped her settle down into her sleeping form.

Before she awoke, he stroked her hair for a second and murmured in her ear, "I won't let you forget, for now and always." In a minute or two, she opened her eyes, stretched her arms and with happy memories flooding back, she smiled at him as she stood beside him, "I could never forget Daniel, not ever. Now help me get past everyone so I can change, I don't think even with my imagination I could explain why I needed to be in the guest room last night, could you?" His eyes widened as he grinned and silently shook his head, "I wouldn't know how to begin," he laughed. Peeking out the door, he waved her forward, "Quick, the way is clear M'dear, GO!"

She scurried across, grasped the door and turned in a panic, "we left the door locked!" In an instant, he appeared on the other side, opening the door and she popped inside safe from observation or questions, 'at least for the moment', she thought.


	16. You don't know, do you?

Taking a moment, she rested her back against the closed door. "This is ludicrous, at my age, to feel like a teenager sneaking in past curfew." Watching him for the first time, chose to stretch out on the bed, rather than standing or sitting more formally in the room, she gave him a dazzling smile. "So, I get to see the real Daniel Gregg, shoes on the bed and all?" "Surely, Madam, one may relax as one desires in their own room?" sending his own smile her way.

"Perhaps, it may take a bit of getting used to" she said sitting next to him on the bed, "but I promise you, the effort is absolutely worthwhile, at least if any recent events are an indication of what I should expect?" He sat up, and poked a ghostly finger at her nose, "You, M'dear, should expect, right now to change and get downstairs, isn't your turn to drive for carpool?"

Sighing, she stood, "It is indeed, and then I have a full day on getting the new articles underway. Excuse me for a moment."

She headed to the closet, and he watched her with a wry grin, "Now? Now you are going to change in the closet? Truly? I would have assumed after last evening you had earned a far larger changing room?" She rolled her eyes, and departed inside the closet. Not really feeling shy, but welcoming a moment to be by herself and understand a bit about what the last day, or to be honest just the last evening had meant to her.

The biggest revelation is what she assumed was going to be his true nature. All these months she had just taken for granted that his serious, somewhat dour nature was normal, but after the last few days and especially after last night, it was clear he was a far happier, almost merry person. 'A hundred years is a long time to not be happy,' she thought and welcomed the chance to see who he was, who he could be at his best.

She heard a soft tap at the door, "Carolyn, my dear, is everything well?" Stepping out, she handed him her still warm nightgown, "Perfectly well. Hold this for me, would you, I suspect it may come in handy in the near future." She wrinkled her nose, and he flung the gown over his shoulder on top of the still rumpled bed. "I wish," she went on, "I might be that wayward teenager, and then I could tell my scandalous tale to all my friends, and I wouldn't be afraid it was all one of your wondrous dreams. Promise me it isn't, one more time?"

"I cannot promise it wouldn't be scandalous to the right person, but true, absolutely it is all true, my darling." They stood quietly, faces nearly touching – she held up her hand, and for a moment, their fingertips grazed each other's, and she let out a huge breath and went out the door.

He stood watching her head downstairs, to begin her usual and customary day, but knowing their lives had forever changed and that together, moment by moment, day by day, they would make sense of the changes and become a couple, a family as they, and the fates would allow.

**OPTIONAL**

_Many of you might be happy to leave it here, but I think there is still a bit more to tell, and even more to reveal, so here goes. GSC_

Some time afterwards . . .

As in any marriage, intimacy is easier some days than others. The barriers they faced and the limits they had to endure were often complicated and not always comfortable. It was therefore surprising, one night, when crossing the bridge, entering the etheric plane, that their lives allowed a view into a new and unexpected dimension.

"Carolyn," he grumbled, "you said you were going to move us from our room just to the beach, where in the world madam have you placed us?" "Daniel, do you honestly think I have THAT much control yet? Where do _you_ think we are?"

Looking around, he furrowed his brow, "If I had to guess, and understand my dear Mrs. Gregg, a guess is all I have, is that we have left our current year and location. This looks exactly like the church in Schooner Bay I attended when I was alive." "And so it is Daniel," an old familiar voice called down from the choir loft above them. The Captain looked in astonishment as Abner Farley, or rather, the Reverend Abner Farley made his way downstairs to them.

Carolyn stepped up beside her Captain, taking his hand, not fearful, but rather unsettled by the world she had 'popped' them into unexpectedly. "Carolyn, my dear," the Reverend said taking her other hand, "it IS Carolyn now, isn't it," he said looking carefully at her, "it is so delightful to see you after so long!" "You know me?" "How do you know her?" they said at the same time.

"Heavens, I had forgotten Daniel, you are still more part of the human world than the one beyond. You don't know, do you?" They stood hand in hand, totally confused by his words.

"My apologies," Reverend Farley continued, "I forget Daniel you haven't truly separated from the physical world, so much of what you would normally recall after passing isn't open to you yet. And now that I see the two of you, I understand why you have not made that transition yet. So let me ask, cannot either of you imagine or suppose what might have brought you here, to this place?"

Seeing no answer in their eyes, he sighed, took his pipe and gestured that they should join him there on the stairs by the altar. "To begin, and no need to offer any excuses, it's obvious you both have refreshed your connection again, but in, shall we say a somewhat unconventional manner?" Watching their mix of intimate smiles, confusion and an uneasy shared glance, he felt certain he had it right. "So, let's start there. Let me set your minds, your morality and sense of right to rest, especially yours Daniel. It was always interesting to me, that despite some rather interesting temptations, you at your core, were always a very moral, rather puritan character."

He smiled at the two of them, enjoying Carolyn's inability to hold this view alongside her long held belief of the Captain with dozens of ladies panting for his attention in ports around the world. She looked up at him with the clear question in her eyes, he, knowing the truth of the Reverend's statement, merely shrugged and gave her look, not unlike Jonathan's when he was caught in a lie without any way of escape. "Come, come," the Reverend continued, "you already know this, but not surprisingly you are not aware of the details right now. There is one type of marriage in the physical world, and a more lasting one on this plane – one that binds two souls together. It isn't easy, for even after that connection is complete, often we choose to be born in lives that don't allow for being together, and the sense of loss, of missing part of yourself never lessens. Sound familiar?"

"Abner, then it wasn't just a romantic fancy? All those years, I searched, I hunted for her, but she was nowhere to be found. It wasn't until she arrived at Gull Cottage I came to realize she hadn't even been born in my time." "Well, perhaps not 100% true, Daniel, but close enough." "So that is why," Carolyn began, "even before he was visible to me, the house or his presence in the house, and especially when I first saw his portrait made me feel as if I had come home?"

"So, you do remember then." the Reverend said happily, "Of course, I do not know exactly how far your connection goes back, but I know I've watched you two live separate lives, find each other every time. So far, there is not any practical way to keep you two separated other than space and time. The lives you have lived together have made for some amazing history, and during the ones alone, you have each grown in many ways, but as far as I know, you have never been happy without being together. And it's obvious that despite all the barriers you've overcome this time, happy is indeed what you are, aren't you?"

Looking up they nodded, "Reverend, so we've done this before" Carolyn asked, "been here before?" "Do your really need to ask? Some of your best stories in this lifetime Carolyn were based on memories of your lives together – how many compelling romances have you written this time around?" "Dozens, and they seem to be what readers like best," she admitted, "but they're real?" "Not that I can say what is truly real or not, but real memories, shaded and shadowed by time but it's close enough."

The Captain, stood pulling Carolyn close by his side, "For the first two years, we were in Gull Cottage, day by day, side by side. When we finally admitted the feelings that you say have been present for centuries, why did neither of us remember?" Laughing, the Reverend turned to his old friend, "And where would the fun, the adventure be if you knew the ending of the story? If when you finally see each other, you already know you are fated to be together? There would be no learning, no adapting, no seeing how the adventures since your last time together have changed you. But that isn't really the question you wanted to ask Daniel, is it?"

Looking down at Carolyn, he admitted, "No, no it isn't. In the depths of my heart, in the recesses of my soul I wish there were a way to actually and truly marry this wonderful woman, for us to be a family in the eyes of everyone. Is that possible?"

Reaching out his hand, he grasped the Captain's arm, "Daniel, Carolyn, both of you, for lack of a more detailed word have been married here for a long, long while. It is only in the physical world you are not. Marriage here, on the etheric plane, is the one that matters. You can marry any one you wish in the physical realm. Some are experiments, some explorations, some payment for past pain or a thank you for past caring, but there is a reason why the vows there often say 'until death do us part'. In many ways, it is no different than when children play wedding. Playing a part is one thing, but knowing where your soul resides, and how it is completed is something you can only know here or as you move beyond this place."

"So it isn't a coincidence that…" Daniel began. "That this all began with the 'wedding' or what became my parent's renewal," Carolyn continued, "of their wedding vows, is it?"

"Probably not – absolutely it awakened your connection in even greater ways, but the connection will always be there between the two of you. However, let me put your troubled consciences to rest my friends. You have nothing to correct, nothing has been left undone, it is only your misperception that needed correction, or at least Carolyn, I believe that is what drew you here this night. If you wish, I am happy to send a 'telling' dream to your loved ones, setting any concerns or confusions to rest. Daniel, consider that a 'wedding' gift from me. I was never able to do that for you in our time together, but I give it to you, to both of you now."

Suddenly the church walls blurred, and they slowly found themselves returning back to Gull Cottage and to their bedroom. Carolyn was surprised to see, on her left hand, a small, sparkling ring, mirrored by a rough hewn, but matching ring on the Captain's hand as well. The fact that her ring also was there on her physical hand when she awoke, she took as a sign that no matter how unconventional, or unexpected, their pairing had met with approval on levels she could not understand or fathom.

Another life, another time they might have to struggle to find each other again, but that would not be this life, this time. And through all their days together, they continued, happy to be together, content to live this special life within the walls of Gull Cottage.


End file.
